


The Red

by lokidiabolus



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: AU, M/M, Red Riding Hood Elements, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 44,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3399227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidiabolus/pseuds/lokidiabolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas wasn't a huge fan of fairy tales, dogs or red colour. He just thought red is lively and it can spice up his wardrobe a little. But his new crimson hoodie started everything...</p><p>Check out this awesome trailer from rsprodz! http://rsprodz.tumblr.com/post/112332765326/just-a-short-little-trailer-well-more-like-a#notes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Red Riding Hood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1300](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1300/gifts).



When Thomas read Harry Potter at 12, he never really thought about all those places being real, or creatures lurking around corners when no one was looking and then actually making an appearance. But now, when he stood on a verge of the dark woods lining the city, he immediately got that reference of “Forbidden Forest” in Hogwarts. Not that he believed in centaurs and trolls and giant spiders in it, but still – that misty, cold place was somewhat pretty real now, chilling him to the bone. A factor of the night played the main part too, windy weather with scary noises chasing leaves around and he just waited for fog to fall down and creep around his ankles any minute.

“I’m pretty sure your grandma is waiting for her pie, Red,” a sly voice reminded him what his situation had been and a non-gentle push to his back caught him unprepared he nearly fell.  He glared over his shoulder at four boys standing there with their arms crossed and lips stretched in wide grins, but it didn’t have any effect on them – they just grinned wider. He mentally kicked himself for even buying this red hoodie few months ago, not to mention actually _wearing_ it today – he should have known it would be like taunting a bull. Even that these four were actually nitwits with the lowest IQ ever. He just thought the rich colour of it would make a nice difference in his usually kind of bland wardrobe, so he got it, and it fitted nicely and warmed him up – and also apparently signed him a death sentence. Or maybe painted a target on his back when he wasn’t looking, who knew.

“Go on. You surely don’t want to be late,” Alby – the leader of them pushed him again, while others started to laugh like demented hyenas. Thomas never thought Alby was a bad guy, but he definitely knew he had his moments where he had to prove his alpha status over people, and this had been a result of it.

“Fuck you all,” Thomas gritted through his teeth, but started walking towards the woods with shaky legs to avoid another attack when he saw Alby reaching up for him again. It apparently didn’t matter to them that it was dark, and the woods had wild animals in it – not at all. Why would it, anyway. No matter they called the woods a _Maze_ because getting lost in it was fairly easy. Or that usually there had been a warning: “DO NOT GO TO THE WOODS, A DANGER OF WILD ANIMALS” on the city board. Thomas always noted the warning as a fact and ignored the forest with a light heart, because he hadn’t be that stupid to actually attempt to get ripped apart by something with claws and sharp teeth.

Until now, of course.

Because those four buffoons thought it was really funny to make him go there when it was forbidden, just because he had a red hoodie and they could call him Little Red Riding Hood and laugh their asses off. Sometimes he doubted they were actually seventeen. Or maybe it made a sense, who knew.

_Well, fine._

He wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t a damsel in distress and he could do this. He would just pretend to go, just to reach a point where they couldn’t see him anymore, and then make his way back - a bit further from the entrance in case they waited there for him, no big deal.

“Be careful, Red! There can be a Big Bad Wolf!” another boy shouted with an amused snort, which made others to howl like idiots, and Thomas eyebrows twitched. This was the worst, really. Stupid red hoodie.

So he set off on his way deeper into the darkness, trying to be as careful as possible in an absolute blackness that ruled the cold place, not to trip over a root or hit a tree, and in his focused concentration on this task he suddenly realized he was already pretty deep in the forest with no idea where to go or – which was embarrassing and also pretty scary – which way he even entered the place.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in strangled voice and shivered involuntary when a cold wind blew around him. He only saw silhouettes of trees and bushes everywhere he looked, and no opening that could tell him it was an exit. He shakily reached for his cell phone, lighting it up in hope he could get some help, but naturally the signal icon stared back at him in its emptiness, so he hid it inside of his pocket with a growl of frustration and resumed his walk straight forward.

These woods had an end too, right? So he just had to walk all the way there and then probably… call a taxi or something.

He snorted at that suggestion himself, imagining the call in motion.

_911, what can we do for you? – Oh you see, I’m in the woods, can you come and fetch me? – What’s your position, sir? - You know, there, near the woods where birds sing and wind blow, I’m pretty sure every tree here has its own postcode too!_

He checked his cell one more time with a sigh, but it stayed blank and unhelpful, and in his intense staring he nearly tripped over a root, sending the device falling on the ground, into the mud. At this time he was actually happy that he couldn’t see anything clearly, because with all the dirt and wet mosses and leaves around he was sure he was going to throw his lovely converse shoes to a trash can when he gets home, and his phone was probably going to follow.

If he gets home.

Damn, of course he will get home! Stupid depressing thoughts. He didn’t need them right now. They were uninvited and absolutely unnecessary for his mental health in the middle of scary, forbidden, wet, dark and cold woods, while he dropped his stupid phone and couldn’t see it anywhere. He crouched down and started searching, his hands connecting with all kinds of slimy things there, and he cringed and stopped for a moment to take a deep breath.

Since it was forbidden, were they even going to find his corpse, in case he won’t make it out?

“Fuck it. Sunshine and bunnies, sunshine and bunnies… think about… sunshine… and rainbows! And pancakes… or spaghetti… or… about how fucking hungry I’m now…” he groaned when his stomach started rumbling at the thought of warm food. He shook his head and returned to his quest of finding the lost phone (black one, really helpful), when his line of depressive thoughts was halted by a loud and terrifyingly close sounding howl. It sliced the silence of the forest and everything got horribly still. Especially him.

At first, he thought he turned into a stone. Then he wanted to laugh hysterically. His fucking red hoodie was on top, and now an actual wolf roamed close too. This had been too much for his poor nerves. His search became frantic and uncoordinated, but all he encountered had been stones and leaves and also some caterpillars or whatever he touched and it moved. Another howl made his teeth chatter, and he whined and left the device where it fell, standing up and picking up on speed, running forward as quick as he could. He occasionally tripped but never actually crashed to the ground, playing slalom with trees and hide and seek with his ragged breath.

This was a nightmare. A true, unmerciful nightmare that sent him here and chased after him. He got bullied and dumped in woods, and now he was probably going to get eaten by a wild animal that howled like in a fucking horror movie.

He didn’t know how long he actually ran – minutes or hours of his legs moving and wind whooshing around his face - but then he finally saw the end of the forest and a road vining around it, and allowed himself to slow down. He almost fell on his knees when his body caught up with the fatigue and sent a signal to his brain it was dead tired, so holding himself upright had suddenly been a heroic effort. He stopped few meters before the edge where the green disappeared under the concrete and tried to catch his breath, which actually hurt a bit. He had to lean against the sturdy bark to hold his body up, and his lungs almost refused to cooperate. How much had he run like this? It must have been quite a distance, he thought while he glanced back quickly to judge the proximity and then turned back to the exit, where he froze like a statue.

Did he just… when he glanced back… saw a figure standing there? He gulped loudly and slowly turned around again and – nothing. Just trees and darkness, and cold wind sweeping around, whispering threateningly. He sighed shakily and looked back to the exit, where he let out a startled scream before he could even stop it.

There _was_ indeed a figure standing. A man. Four meters in front of him. With flaming red yes. Watching him as a prey and blocking his escape route successfully.  

“My, what a big eyes you have…” Thomas croaked in a haze of stupidity and these red orbs blinked and got closer. That was a cue to start running once more, Thomas’ brain supplied helpfully, so he forced his body to move and darted out back to the blackness of the forest. His heartbeat pounded in his ears so loudly he thought it must have been heard all over the woods, rabbiting in his ribcage with cadence of a machine gun. His legs hurt and body operated probably only on a power of his sheer will, but he pushed stubbornly forward, jumping over the fallen trees, clutching to his luck tightly for not tripping and face-planting somewhere.

He stole a glance back, thankfully without killing himself, and realized he was not being chased, so his legs immediately stopped and gave out completely. He was lucky to have arms still functional, because they halted his fall just in time before he broke his nose.

He stayed on all fours for a while, catching his breath, gulping air into his abused lungs and then he propped himself on his heels. There wasn’t even time to think or plan, he was like in a spasm, shaking and dead tired when the growl echoed and a big black wolf made an appearance from the dark.

Thomas stayed put, completely paralyzed. The beast paced around him few times, sniffling, but otherwise didn’t do anything threatening, till the boy dared to move – then he growled again, a deep, rich vibration through his bared teeth. He circled him like this at least three times, catching the smell, and then there was a hand on Thomas’ shoulder, hauling him up at which the boy let out a squeak. The black wolf was gone, instead of him there stood a black-haired Asian man, watching him intently with his red eyes. He was probably as tall as Thomas, with messy hair and deadly serious expression.

Thomas’ heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest for sure now, wildly crashing against his ribs it hurt. Red colour of the man’s eyes was intimidating at the best, but apart from that he didn’t do anything else. Just standing there, watching Thomas… expectantly?

The boy blinked few times in confusion and when the silence was the only respond he got, he coughed a bit and asked:

“Did you… want something?”

That dark figure raised an eyebrow, a silent gesture which made Thomas even more confused.

“Alright… um,” he awkwardly looked away from the guy – from the… naked? Oh god, he was naked, wasn’t he. Thomas didn’t have that boldness in him to look lower than his face, so he just imagined he had pants at least, when the upper part of his body didn’t have any cloth on it, only the dirt and scratches. Which, yea… great.

“I’m Thomas. Hey. You’ve just given me a heart attack and stuff, so… it may be better if I know who you are?” he started to babble again, but he tended to do that when he got nervous.

“Who am I?” the man asked in a raspy voice as if he didn’t talk for long time or just woke up. His tone was a bit surprised too, but steely.

“Yes?” Thomas tried. “I’m not a telepath, you know.”

“You’re the Red,” the man said.

“Thomas.”

“Red Riding Hood,” came a reply and a tug on his hoodie. Thomas followed that movement with his eyes and then it was his turn to raise an eyebrow in a question.

“Is this a joke? Are you with that idiot Alby in this?”

“Who is Alby?” the man asked, confused. “And no. This is not a joke. You’re here, so it’s real.”

“I’m he… yea. Well, because those morons made me to go here, alright,” Thomas mumbled angrily and stepped away from the man. Which wasn’t the best idea because that made him to look down and the guy really didn’t have any pants going on. At all. Thank god it was this dark.

Also, no real response came.

“Can you at least tell me why you are naked?” Thomas sighed dramatically and kept his eyes up as best as he could. Right now at the black hair that probably never met a comb for how messy it was.

No reply.

“Okay. So what about the wolf? Where is it?” another question and Mr In-His-Birthday-Suit tilted his head to the side. Because, hell, there _had_ been a wolf a moment ago.

“The big black wolf?” Thomas tried to help, he really did, but it was useless. The guy remained silent and naked, and terribly static.

“Fine. Fine, that’s fine. You don’t need to talk so much or I wouldn’t catch it all…” he pinched the bridge of his nose, noting how his body was slowly getting more and more tired. ”Look, buddy whatever-is-your-name, if you don’t want to tell me at least something, then I’ll go. Home. Cuz I’ve been running around this damn forest for _hours_ and I feel my legs are getting really heavy-.”

“But you didn’t bring any food,” the man said suddenly, like it was the biggest argument ever.

“I-what? Food?” Thomas blinked few times and the expectant look on the naked man’s face grew impatient.

“You’re the Red. So you should bring food with you. That’s how it goes,” he answered harshly and the boy felt his jaw falling open. _That’s how it goes? What the hell?_

“I’m the Red… Riding Hood. So I should bring you, the naked man running in the forest and scaring teenagers, food. Which is completely normal…?”

“That’s what you should do,” the guy nodded and that expectant stare was back. Thomas gulped.

“I, uh… didn’t know?” he excused himself lightly and glanced around, “can’t you just… catch a squirrel or something?”

“No.”

“Just… humour me, okay. I’m new to this… whole… Red business,” Thomas decided to play along and it seemed like it worked, because the rigid posture the man had going on, disappeared, melted in more loose one. “As far as I know… Little Red Riding Hood, the fairy tale one I mean, brought food to her sick grandmother? And the wolf ate them both. Then it was killed by the lumberjack. Right?”

“If you say so,” Mr Naked-Butt retorted. “It’s a deal between wolves and the Red. It’s going on for centuries. Red brings food and wolves keep their part of the deal.”

“Why?” Thomas asked curiously and got a full frown from the guy.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to help myself.”

Thomas’ breath hitched unpleasantly in his throat at that sentence. His body shivered.

“You aren’t a wolf,” he whispered and the man growled. Really growled, as a wild animal. Thomas took few more steps back and the growl dropped deeper and more dangerous.

“You… are?” he whimpered weakly and it was matter of seconds when he was standing in front of him and then lying on his back with a very big, very angry and very black wolf pressing to his chest with his massive paws, growling at him from 20 cm distance.

“What a big teeth you have…” Thomas piped and the wolf snapped at him, dangerously close to his neck.

“Okay, fine! I get it!” brown-haired teenager shrieked and the growling subsided gradually.

“I get it, okay?! Just… no biting…”

The wolf disappeared in a second and the red eyed man was back, leaning over Thomas in his full naked glory, glaring at him with a soft rumbling emitting from his chest.

“Do we have a deal?” he bit out forcefully and Thomas nodded frantically.

“Yes, fine, yea, you got it, oh my god,” the boy agreed verbally too just to be safe and cringed in discomfort. “And can you just… get off me? Please? You’re kind of naked…”

The man-wolf snorted and finally leaned back.

***

Thomas was surprised by his own ability to lie through his teeth to his parents, even that he came way past the curfew with his clothes smelling like a wet dog and forest dirt. Meeting this menacing man in the woods had one plus point – he led him out of the maze of trees and Thomas could get home, after swearing almost a bloody oat to come back with food. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around that Red concept, and laid wide awake the whole night, pondering about possibilities and consequences.

That guy was totally a wolf. Or werewolf or something. Not to mention his freaky red eyes in human form and the whole nakedness going on too. And he wanted food. Or he would help himself… It sounded menacing. He felt like he couldn’t take it lightly and interpret it only as his own effort of going to the shop and buy bread and milk. He _knew_ it could mean to _kill_. Because hell, that guy was a freaking werewolf! He wondered how the hell he wasn’t freaking out more – those things were maybe in mushy novels like Twilight which he would use maybe as a toilet paper and nothing more.

But he met one. He met somebody – or something – that can turn into an animal and back, and if that wasn’t some fairy tale shit, that what else was. Maybe that Harry Potter reference about the Forbidden forest had its truth lying there somewhere.

But why him? Just because he foolishly wore his red hoodie and those idiots thought it was really funny to let him roam the forbidden woods?

Wait. What? They were making fun of him as a Red Riding Hood and took him to the forest where the wolf thought the exact same thing?

“Fuck it. My head hurts…”


	2. The Big Bad Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a bad Gretel, Red. You should have used bread crumps to find your way back,” the wolf actually smirked and stood up, revealing his bare feet again. How he managed to move around without getting his feet injured Thomas didn’t know. Must have been some werewolf mojo.   
> “Of course, Hansel,” Thomas uttered and took off the bag to take out the baguette. “I brought a peace offering.”  
> “How thoughtful.”

Thomas knew how it must have looked to his mom when she saw him packing his bag with too much food for him to eat. But she just smiled at him cheerfully and let him go with an apple in his hand, which made him massively relieved. He really didn’t know what he would say otherwise.

_(“Hey mom, I got those cravings you see, math is so tiresome, gotta refresh now and then.” – “Why are you taking raw eggs too?” “Omelettes, yeah?” “On your math book?” “I’m just hungry, don’t judge me, I keep on growing!”)_

He slept for maybe an hour, his mind too occupied, making up scenarios of monsters going to eat him, or this guy terrorizing his city just because Thomas didn’t come and fed him – and he thought about not going, he really did. Because a wolf or not, it was still just one guy, right? What one guy can do?

But then he reminded himself this _one guy_ was apparently a werewolf and if the lore hadn’t been lying he could _bite_ people and _change_ them, and having a town full of werewolves over one stupid meal a day seemed… a little too drastic.

He wandered to the woods when clock showed something past 8 in the morning and stopped in front of the first line of trees with a deep sigh. It looked slightly different in the broad daylight – not so terrifying, maybe just a little too quiet and cold. Thomas even skipped class to get there sooner rather than later. He had no idea what he should take for a wolf to snack on, so he grabbed what was close and prayed for it to be enough (even a portion of lasagne his dad kept on stashed in the back of the fridge so no one would steal it. Too bad, wolf’s orders).

He didn’t need to wander very far into the woods, because the wolf was already standing there when he barely entered, watching him intently. It was black, so Thomas assumed it was his wolf and not a pack bro or something, and decided to come closer. He didn’t really know what gave him this much courage after he was almost eaten by it yesterday, but he considered the sleep deprivation he suffered through as a reason enough.

The wolf was big – you wouldn’t mistake it for a regular dog. It hadn’t been a regular wolf either, Thomas would say it was _massive_ and kind of… _fluffy_. Majestically fluffy he thought hastily, just in case the wolf had some other freaky superpowers like mind reading. He didn’t look threatening though, which was good. Safe even, sort of. If he stayed this far. He just stood there calmly, watching Thomas with his – thankfully not red – eyes, and the brunet slowly inched closer until he considered the distance enough and dumped the bag on the ground.

“Here,” he said lamely. “I hope you’re happy now.”

The wolf didn’t really react, but when Thomas wanted to leave it and retreat, the beast took off and stopped to watch Thomas again from the distance.

“What? I’m not here to play, Wildcatter. Get your food so I can go,” he shouted at him, but the wolf stayed at his spot. “Ugh, you’re the worst pet _ever_.”

The wolf led him further to the forest and when Thomas wanted to give up on him already, he barked to get his attention back and Thomas let out a sigh and resumed walking. This was such a bad idea, he kept on reminding himself. An idiotic idea. An absolute bullshit, he was seriously signing his own death sentence by each step he took.

He could have been leading him far enough to eat him in peace. He could have been planning on turning him to one of his kind. He could have even been a masochistic bastard and wanting keep him as a pet to play with, like a cat and mouse game, chasing through the woods until Thomas would run out of strength, fall and get his throat ripped out.

He could…

(Thomas stopped with wide eyes and a little out of breath and just stared.)

…lead him to an abandoned cottage in the middle of the forest.

In between fallen trees and all the green and grey and dark and light, there stood a small, shabby looking cottage. It was like a greyish version of _don’t go there or you’re going to die_ aka _do you want to play a game?_ But the wolf disappeared inside of it without hesitation and left Thomas in front of it in a silent shock.

That guy – that wolf guy – had a house in here? For real? He really, _really_ lived here? What was inside? Bones? Pile of dead animals? A grandma he ate?

“I’m a nutcase,” he mumbled to himself when he forced his body to move and actually enter. He _knew_ it was a bad idea, but he did it anyway, because he must have lost his mind.

It wasn’t exactly Hilton, but it seemed habitable, Thomas mused when he peeked inside and glanced around. There were no bones for the start. No terrible dead stench, no trapped victims begging for help and he considered it a good starting point. It had to be old, that’s for sure, and not exactly steady when he gathered his courage and entered, and the walls were the first thing that caught his attention. It got a fireplace – plus point for sure – and also a bed. Or better… a pile of blankets and pillows and who knows what else, so it was pretending to be a place for sleeping. The floor was probably never cleaned and he could clearly see a mixture of wolves and human footprints how he had to be running through the mud in the forest and back _home_.

Thomas spotted the wolf in the back of the room watching him intently from there, and he wondered what exactly he was expecting from him. He slowly put down the bag with food and noted the whole one room cottage was too chilly to be considered a nice, relaxing spot for the day. If you didn’t want to catch a cold, that is. He carefully moved towards the fireplace and noticed it had been used – there were few logs and some of them seemed slightly burned.

He couldn’t help but wonder how was he making the fire – or chopping the wood. Had he had an axe here as well? Matches, or did he use flint for it? Or maybe he was magic and could even breathe fire… _alright, stop the stupidity already._

“You’re the only wolf in the whole forest?” he asked while he crouched in front of the fireplace and grabbed an unburned stick to poke the contents with. He heard the wolf move and the soft padding of dog’s paws changed into stomping of human feet.

“Yes,” came reply and Thomas stiffened. If he changed back to his human form, that meant he was naked again. Oh, joy.

“Do you have at least any pants you can wear while you are at my presence?” he asked patiently and a sigh from the guy gave him a little hope. After few minutes and rustling of clothes Thomas turned to see his host had finally black pair of trousers on himself, and even a sweat-shirt. Constant win!

It gave him a lot more _normal_ vibe than the last time he saw him in the woods. He still seemed kind of messy, but suddenly it became civil, like a guy who just went through a workout in the woods, getting a little dirty and unruly. Thomas would even say he could easily fit the _jock_ profile in his school – he was most definitely fit enough for it, judging by his strong arms and lean waist. Only the jacket with the school rugby team insignia was missing.

“Thank you,” he smirked at the wolf’s hurt expression and dragged his bag closer. “I didn’t know what to take with me, so… I hope you aren’t picky and don’t want me to cook for you or something. ‘Cuz I’m not good in it. No one ever told me I’ll be feeding a wolf in my pubertal future.”

“What do you mean?” wolf asked with surprised tone in his voice and padded closer. He was completely barefoot and Thomas wondered if he didn’t feel the cold that ruled the room thoroughly. He alone was getting chilly, and he was still fully clothed.

“What?” he looked up to him and the Asian boy was staring back down.

“What do you mean by _no one ever told you_?” he repeated and Thomas shrugged:

“Well, ‘cuz no one ever told me. Yesterday was just a coincidence I think. I’ve never heard about a Red business with wolves.”

“It runs in your family. As it runs in mine kind,” the wolf retorted firmly. “For centuries. It’s a deal. Our kinds are bound together in one pack.”

“I’m pretty sure my parents don’t know about it,” Thomas refused that version immediately. “And by sure I mean adamant. Really. This is just… I don’t know. I’m here, because few guys from my class thought it’s hilarious that I wore red hoodie and just kicked me to the woods.”

No reply came and the reason was clear right away – the wolf started to paw his way through all the food Thomas brought. It ended their conversation like a guillotine.

***

“What have you been doing yesterday?”

Thomas raised his head in a silent question when mom came to his room and held his dirty pants up.

“It smells terribly and you completely ruined your jeans,” she waved the garment with an exasperated sigh. “Where have you been running until so late, young man?”

“I told you,” he retorted firmly, gripping the edge of his notebook a little firmer. “We had practice with guys. For rugby. We were outside and the field was kinda drenched.”

He hoped it was the same excuse he told her yesterday, because he barely remembered how he even managed to drag his super tired body to his bed at that point. She seemed convinced though, and thankfully didn’t mention anything about the food either.

The wolf took it all anyway, but Thomas hoped he didn’t mean to eat it all in one day. He definitely hadn’t planned on going there again tomorrow, or the day after, he had some dignity (the same dignity the wolf was lacking with the clothes absence). He even told him so, and either the beast hadn’t been listening, or he just acknowledged it without any reaction and didn’t mind.

Thomas hoped in the latter.

***

“Where have you been yesterday?”

Thomas blinked and glanced at the black haired girl sitting next to him. She watched him expectantly with her big, blue eyes, and Thomas wondered if she knew such stare was her mightiest weapon. She always seemed like she _knew everything_ when she was staring like this, like she could read every thought, see every dark secret.

At first he wondered why she even asked when she knew, before he realized he was being an idiot once more, too caught up in the sudden supernatural world that unfolded in his life without proper warning. Werewolf or not, the rest of this city was _normal_.

“Earth to Tom,” she nudged him a little impatiently and he cleared his throat and offered a small smile. It didn’t really work.

“Didn’t feel like going to school,” he replied, throwing a casual shrug into the lie. “Had been a nice day.”

“And you love nice days, it means you can close all the blinds in your room and sit at your PC while thinking of the sunny weather,” she snorted and _the look_ was back. “You could at least texted me or something, so I could give her some excuse.”

Thomas grumbled unhappily at the mention of his phone, because he hadn’t found it that night and his parents didn’t even know about it yet. This week had been a train wreck… He rather focused on his watch and noted there was still 30 minutes until the end of the first lesson. He already felt like he couldn’t stay still, like he needed to get out and…

And what? Go to the woods? Attempt to get bitten or eaten?

“You should be a little more careful,” she told him seriously. “The teacher was asking. It’s just the question of time until she calls your parents, you know.”

“Thanks, Teresa,” he mumbled. He was grateful for her warning, he really was, but his mind was so occupied he couldn’t really give her more credit for it. Because, damn! He met a guy who could turn into a wolf, for god’s sake! And he was letting this chance to talk with him a get to know him to slip away? No way. Idiotic or not, it was something people didn’t get to live through often, if at all.

“I gotta go after this,” he said suddenly and Teresa raised an eyebrow.

“I just told you Paige is onto you, and you wanna play hooky again?” she breathed out in disbelief. “Are you nuts?”

“I just need to do something,” he muttered back, clicking his pen impatiently. “Outside of the school.”

“Are you playing some new game you are so pumped?” she frowned. “Because we talked about this, Tom. It’s not cool.”

“No, it’s not a game, geez,” he rolled his eyes, even though she was justified to say that. He had those phases during the first year of school, as well as many troubles with the absence _and_ his parents after. Even though he repeated it at least three times with new MMO he could play and got too caught up with after.

But this was definitely _not_ a game. He was just so damn curious, and he knew the curiosity could kill, but who could blame him if they were aware of the reason, right?

***

He bought a baguette as a peace offering and ran away from school right after the bell rang. Teresa tried to make him stay, but she would have to put him in chains for her to succeed, so she just waved her hand and let him be. He knew she would cover for him if the shit hit the fan, even though she didn’t need to, and noted to himself to buy her something sweet later.

He arrived to the woods fairly fast, just to realize he didn’t really know _where_ exactly the cottage had been. Or the wolf on that matter. The whole _Maze_ was huge and the cottage had been _somewhere_ in a small glade area, but it was so insignificant he would be lying if he said he _knew_ where.

Maybe he should tell the wolf next time he needs some signs to find it again. Or a compass. A GPS. Or maybe a functional brain, because he set off anyway without thinking and found himself in the middle of the woods again without a proper knowledge which way he came from.

“Fuck my life,” he sighed, pulling his bag higher and looking around. “Hello?!”

He knew it was a little useless, but maybe the wolf had been perceptive enough or could smell him or something.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t come today?” a voice sounded somewhere behind him and Thomas almost swallowed his tongue in shock and let out a yelp. He turned around fast, just to see the wolf – the human wolf – crouching there _with pants, thank god_ , on a fallen tree.

“Changed my mind,” Thomas replied, trying to stop the uneasiness creeping on him, with being watched like this. “But I didn’t realize I don’t know where your Hilton is, so…”

“You’re a bad Gretel, Red. You should have used bread crumps to find your way back,” the wolf actually smirked and stood up, revealing his bare feet again. How he managed to move around without getting his feet injured Thomas didn’t know. Must have been some werewolf mojo.

“Of course, _Hansel_ ,” Thomas uttered and took off the bag to take out the baguette. “I brought a peace offering.”

“How thoughtful.”

“I know, right?” he held it towards the man, but the wolf didn’t take it. He jumped off the log instead and passed him without another word, going forward in a languid pace. Thomas just rolled his eyes and went after him like an obedient duckling.

They didn’t walk for long, so Thomas hadn’t been as far from it as he thought. He considered it a success. The cottage was still the same when he entered, same cold, same half empty, and his host casually dropped into his pile he used as a bed and watched Thomas from there.

He was actually very young, Thomas realized. Maybe even his age. Under all the grime and dirty feet he seemed like a regular teenager who apparently liked to show off. Thomas tried not to think about that though, he could only hope he wasn’t planning on running around him without pants ever again.

“How about your name?” he suggested at first, because – hey, calling him a wolf got a little tiresome. “Or is it also part of the deal? You addressing me Red and me addressing you Wolf?”

“I’m Minho,” the wolf said calmly. “But you can _address_ me as you please, I don’t really care.”

“Well, okay cupcake. You said it yourself,” Thomas grinned boldly and took out a lighter he brought to make fire. Hopefully his dad wouldn’t notice one out of his collection had gone missing. “Also, you need a table. Just saying. Where do you eat? Wait, don’t tell me… I probably don’t wanna know.”

 _Minho_ rolled his eyes and actually jumped off his pile and handed him a chunk of wood to help out with the fire. Thomas noticed he had some wood stashed inside of the cottage, right next to the fireplace, and had to admit he scored a plus point by it. The fire creating took some whining from Thomas’ side for it to stay alive, but in the end the hut was filled with warmness and surprisingly stayed that way despite of the shabbiness of the building. Minho seemed to appreciate it somehow, even though he hadn’t looked like the cold bothered him before.

“Minho sounds Japanese,” Thomas pointed out when he made himself more comfortable in front of the fire and the wolf snorted.

“You sound Japanese.”

“Mature,” the brunet uttered and earned a chuckle.

“It’s Korean, smartass,” he informed Thomas in amusement and Thomas glanced at him curiously.

“What does it mean?”

“It means I have a name,” the wolf deadpanned. “Or do you need some linguistic background for it?”

“Geez, you’re pissy,” Thomas mumbled, getting back to poking logs in the fire. “I’m just curious.”

“What does Thomas mean?” Minho opposed from the pile and the brunet shrugged.

“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a name…” he quieted down and let out a sigh. “Okay, I get your point.”

“Bless you.”

“You’re a lot more bearable as a wolf,” Thomas grumbled and in a next second there was something fluffy leaning into him and he found himself crowded by the huge black beast.

“Or not,” he piped when the wolf didn’t look like it want to retreat, instead of kept on pushing him until Thomas fell on his back and the wolf stretched over his waist, lying over him sideway and stayed there, absolutely preventing the boy to move away.

“You’re fucking heavy!”

He earned only a huff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I want a big cudly dog too T^T


	3. The Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you have any idea what time is it?”   
> Thomas groaned internally at the sight of his mother standing between the door, and didn’t even blame her when she cringed her nose in disgust.  
> “You smell like a wet dog.”

Thomas gathered Minho was more comfortable in his wolf form. Every second day when he came with food, the black wolf greeted him at the edge of the forest and remained fluffy and quiet for the whole visit. Thomas didn’t mind – it was like going to feed somebody’s dog that was actually happy to see him. At least he acted like it; Thomas even caught him wagging his tail happily when Thomas appeared between trees. He had this habit to get Thomas to pet him at least once somehow, usually right when he arrived – he ran to him, slinked around like a cat and Thomas automatically patted his head and rubbed his back. The best thing was he didn’t even really need to bend that much, the wolf-Minho was easily reaching his waist. He could probably even ride on his back as a horse if he really wanted to and Minho wouldn’t even feel him for how strong and sturdy this form was. His paws were probably twice as big as Thomas’ hands, with sharp, steely claws that clicked against the floor of his hut like four sets of needles. And when he bared his teeth, Thomas couldn’t deny he felt shivers going down his spine from the pure fear. But when he was calm and silent, he reminded him of a big domestic pet.

“Thomas, a word please?”

He quickly blinked away all the thoughts and images and glanced up to the blond, strict looking woman that stood at his table, with a frown on her face. Teresa had warned him this moment could come, and unfortunately it did sooner than he expected.

“Yes, Miss Paige,” he mumbled and rose up, following her to her cabinet. He knew she wanted to scold him, and he was aware why, but at least it also meant she hadn’t called his parents yet, which was a good sign. He had enough of troubles on his shoulders by now; he didn’t need to get grounded as well.

“Your absence is getting worse _again_ ,” she pointed out when the door closed behind them, seizing him in a cold stare. “I’m sure we had this talk before, and it’s disappointing we need to talk about it _again_ , Thomas.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized profusely. She was right; he had been absent a lot lately, just because he had to go to the woods to bring food – but what should he tell her? That he needed to feed a giant wolf?

“I’m sure you are,” she crossed her arms on her chest. “But as you understand you being sorry means nothing to me. What are you going to do about it? Do we need to deal with this _again_?”

“No…” he avoided her eyes. Her emphasis on _again_ made him cringe every time she brought it in.

“Good,” she nodded shortly. “One more absence without a proper excuse and I’m calling your parents about this.”

“I understand.”

“As a warning, you earned a detention for an hour today,” she added. He took a breath to complain, but her icy glare stopped him in time, so he just nodded in defeat and dragged himself back to the class. He felt her stare stabbing into back of his head all the way through the hallway, and it definitely wasn’t pleasant.

An hour on top of the whole day. That meant he would get out of the building not sooner than at 5. And that also meant Minho would be waiting for a lot longer than he was used to, because today was a day he had to make the delivery.

“Told you so,” Teresa greeted him with a sigh. “How bad was it?”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, sitting down slowly. “An hour of detention. Bearable.”

“Lucky,” she smirked. “But you still look like she just gave you a death sentence.”

He just shook his head and got back to his notes.

He was screwed anyway.

***

The detention dragged on in an unbelievably slow pace. Once the clock hit four, the sky started to darken, and when it clicked past half, the lamps lit up and everything else got devoured by darkness. It was a reason why he despised winter, even though the snow almost hadn’t appeared this year. Days were much shorter and next to the cold it was also slightly depressing.  

The worst thing presented itself right the moment Thomas left his school and ran to the woods. It was dark and already freezing, and Minho wasn’t waiting at the edge of the forest as usual, or a bit further in, just in case somebody passed by.

Thomas felt the panic swelling inside of him, and he couldn’t even pinpoint the right reason for it. Was he afraid Minho went to the city to _help himself_? Or that somebody else found him and hurt him (as much as you can hurt such a huge beast that could rip you in half)? Or maybe he was afraid if he had left now, the wolf would decide it was time to take more serious measures?

Thomas didn’t know, and he was not even sure what he was afraid of more now – the wrath of his parents when he would come home super late, or the wrath of a supernatural being that could bit his head off.

_…yeah, the parent’s reason sounded a bit stupid in comparison._

The woods were dark, moist and cold. He slipped at least three times on his way to the cottage, stubborn and freezing, but not relenting. It had been a week of his regular visits, so he memorized the way the best he could, even though at night everything seemed eerily different. The shadows dragged trees more tall and wide, the moonlight gifted dark places with even sharper menace, and when it got cloudy enough, everything seemed to grew gloomy and threatening.

He didn’t care though. And maybe thank to that wilfulness he managed to get to the right place an hour later (slow, but successful), falling inside of the hut with hope he could get a little warmer by the fire.

The bad thing was – the hut was dark and empty and as cold as the air outside. There was no sign of Minho or fire and Thomas stood in the middle of the room dumbfounded and uneasy.

Yes, he was late. But Minho never gave him a deadline, right? Was he mad? Did he go hunting? Or…

Thomas dropped the bag on the ground and started making the fire to keep the bad thoughts away from his brain. His fingers almost hurt from the cold already, and the chunks he tried to throw into the fireplace fell from his hands twice before he managed to get it done and search for the lighter. He found it on its regular place above the fireplace, which made him relieved to no end. He hadn’t brought any with him, and he didn’t really trust himself enough with flints (not being a scout had its downfalls apparently), so making it “the modern, lazy way” had been his best friend. Kudos to Minho for actually keeping it there as well and not chewing on it.

His teeth chattered long after the fire finally caught on, lightening up the unforgiving place with soft, bronze hue, and even though he felt the warmth slowly spreading around, his body refused to get warmer. He tried to flex his limbs and fingers, but it didn’t really help, and he was too tired to actually move around too much. The only thing he could do involved Minho’s pile where he slept, and even though it hadn’t been the most appealing place in the world, he was becoming less and less picky each passing moment.

The cold conquered him after another set of minutes and made him crawl towards the place slowly, trying to find anything that could be too gross to touch or consider safe. He found nothing much except a pile of furs that screamed _warm_ at him, occasionally interleaved with a piece of clothing Minho apparently owned but wasn’t keen on wearing.

It smelled like a dog though, which made Thomas cringe his nose at, but hey, he was in a wolf’s lair, he couldn’t be picky when facing such harsh conditions. He carefully positioned himself to the edge of the _bed_ , trading his fingers hesitantly between the furs, and then flopped down and let out a sigh.

What was his life even morphing into? A week ago his biggest worry had been if he scored enough in a game, or if he passed a test to get a presentable grade.

Now he had this duty of feeding a wolf that apparently gave up on him and hopped somewhere else, and he found himself being moody about it, and even a little angry. He came here as he promised, right? Every day as he should have. He arrived, he delivered, he didn’t bother him as much (mostly because bothering this massive beast would be the last thing he would ever do. Not to mention Minho wouldn’t even be able to answer any of his questions in that form, and that was maybe why he picked it in the first place).

He gave out a long, suffering breath and tossed around, just to be hit with something not quite as soft. It slid down through the covers almost under his form and he jumped away in a second, expecting everything – a dead body of an animal the most.

What he hadn’t been expecting was what he found though. On the covers laid his lost phone.

***

“Do you have any idea what time is it?”

Thomas groaned internally at the sight of his mother standing between the door, and didn’t even blame her when she cringed her nose in disgust.

“You smell like a wet dog.”

“I need a bath,” he just said and slinked around her without another word. He managed to get out of the woods in hour and half, roaming around a little helplessly, but he really didn’t want to stay in the hut anymore.

His phone was functional, only the battery died, and he couldn’t help but wonder _why_ exactly Minho had his phone and remained quiet about it. Did he even know what a phone is?

Well, he didn’t seem to be as big of a caveman, so he probably did… But really. The phone, then his disappearance - was Thomas becoming a part of Supernatural? Should he gather information on how to wear plaid shirt the best and what kind of tattoos against possession are currently in?

He hoped not. Thomas Winchester sounded awful.

***

“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Teresa asked him in concerned tone and Thomas only hummed something into his sleeve. He was so _tired_. He felt chilled to the bone and hot at the same time, and cursed Minho to the deepest pits of hell for making him go all the way to his Hilton for nothing.

Well, his phone at least. About which he hadn’t told him a shit.

_Bad dog._

“Guess it’s just a cold,” he managed to let out to sate her curiosity and Teresa patted him on the shoulder in consolation.

“Have you heard the news?” she changed the topic smartly and he cracked an eye at her, urging her to go on. “They’ve seen a wolf roaming around the edge of the forest yesterday.”

“What…?” he sat up straight slowly, blood draining from his face. “A wolf?”

“I think it was just a big dog,” she shrugged. “Those guys were drunk anyway, I’m sure. But they said there was a big wolf at the forest, pretty near the city. Probably searching for something to eat… the city is going to investigate it, but man. Can you imagine?”

“A wolf,” he repeated dumbly.

“I thought there were bears or bobcats or… I don’t know, but I would never think we have a real wolf in the forest, even though it’s a creepy place,” she nodded, looking into her phone and apparently searching for something online. “Wonder if it’s a lone one or if it has a pack… ah, here it is. The quality is shitty, but look.”

She handed him her phone with a city bulletin page on it and he almost forgot how to breathe. Yes, the picture was very bad, from afar, and probably also a little in motion, but he could clearly see the big black silhouette of an animal near the forest line, all massive and _there_.

“Fuck,” he breathed out and Teresa hummed in agreement.

“Just saying,” she nudged him gently. “Be a little more careful outside from now on. You never know what a hungry wolf can do.”

Thomas couldn’t even _think_ of what this hungry wolf can do to _him_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> You know how a wet dog smells? It's awful xD


	4. The Fairy Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Talk then,” a sudden voice jolted him and he quickly send the Asian boy an evil look, just to groan at his naked state again and looked away.  
> “Pants!”  
> “You’re such a pansy,” Minho uttered and padded towards his pile, hopefully taking something that could cover him. Thomas wondered if there was some available magic that could make him have the pants even after he changed back from the wolf form, it would definitely save him some grey hair and a desperate need for mind bleach.

Thomas felt the crippling fear clawing at his consciousness. He didn’t know why exactly he was suddenly so afraid, but he couldn’t relax, no matter how hard he tried. He kept on telling himself he did _nothing_ wrong, he kept his part of the deal as he should have. He arrived with food every second day, and since Minho _never_ told him the exact time, how could there be any consequences for coming late yesterday? He still managed to do that, he left the food there as well, it wasn’t his fault the wolf hadn’t been there to see him.

But the knowledge people had actually seen him _outside_ of the forest in his wolf form – that gave him an honest scare. It was like a nightmare coming true, like Minho ran out of patience and went for a real hunt, a human hunt, because his _Red_ just didn’t do what he was supposed to – and that was scary, undoubtedly frightening.

Thomas spent the rest of the day quiet and a little out of everything. Teresa even told him to go ask if he could leave home, since he seemed feverish, but he refused and rather stayed at school for as long as he could. He didn’t need to go to the woods today, at least for what the unspoken rule told him, but he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to go tomorrow either.

He broke a record on his way home, he never made it there this fast before, and even though it was probably only paranoid, he still ran to his room and spent the rest of the day in his bed, under the blanket.

***

“Stay home.”

“What?” Thomas turned around to his mom when he finally made it downstairs the next morning, his body heavy and tired. “But…”

“You look worse than yesterday,” she touched his forehead as if in confirmation and frowned. “I have to go to work, but we _will_ talk about your late arrivals this past week, young man.”

Thomas wanted to add something, but her fiery glare shut him up, so he only nodded and retreated back to his room. It wasn’t like he felt super bad, or super sick. Just maybe a little heavy and sleepy, which was nothing new during these past few days.

He fell asleep again when his head touched the pillow and dreamed about snapping jaws and sharp teeth, and that woke him up abruptly half an hour later, sweaty and shivering, and with the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Thomas despised himself all the way to the kitchen, along the hallway to the main door, and that gradually became a burning hatred once he left the house. It was the nagging worry that he could make the beast go rampant in the city streets just because he chickened out from a simple food delivery, that made him abandon the safety of his house with a packed bag.

Minho had been waiting for him at the edge of the forest, hidden from a curious eye of a simple passerby between the trees, but easily spotted once you entered the woods and looked around. Well, it was fairly difficult in default to miss such a huge dog standing there anyway.

Thomas stopped once he saw him, his feet suddenly heavy and not cooperating. The wolf hadn’t seemed agitated or impatient; it was simply standing there, watching him. He didn’t come close though, and Thomas took it as a bad sign, since usually he greeted him somehow.

“We need to talk,” the brunet forced himself to speak. “For real.”

Minho huffed and hopped down the log he was standing on, disappearing between trees, which was Thomas cue to follow him.

He wasn’t even sure why he did or if he really wanted to.

***

There was a lit fireplace and nice, warm air when they entered the hut. Thomas was grateful for it, even though he kept it for himself when he was closing the door behind him.

“Talk then,” a sudden voice jolted him and he quickly send the Asian boy an evil look, just to groan at his naked state again and looked away.

“Pants!”

“You’re such a pansy,” Minho uttered and padded towards his pile, hopefully taking something that could cover him. Thomas wondered if there was some available magic that could make him have the pants even after he changed back from the wolf form, it would definitely save him some grey hair and a desperate need for mind bleach.

“You had my phone,” he started through gritted teeth without looking, and let his bag slid down the floor.

“Found it in the forest,” Minho answered somewhere on the right from Thomas. “Meant to give it to you, but you haven’t showed up.”

“That’s another thing-,” Thomas peeked that way and sighed in relief at Minho’s finally clothed state (at least half clothed, since he didn’t bother with a shirt). “I had a detention and stayed at school for long – and you went outside and people saw you!”

“Saw me?” Minho repeated, his eyebrows climbing up.

“Saw you!” Thomas repeated with a frown. “There is a photo _and_ a warning about a wolf!”

“And what else is new?” Minho snorted and crossed his arms on his chest. “Was this really so important you had to drag me out and make me dress like a doll?”

“That’s a normal human thing to do-,”

“Flash news, I’m _not_ human, genius-,”

“Yes, so _what_ are you?!” Thomas ended the dialogue in a much higher tone than when he started, that he was almost shouting, and it resonated through the small room like a painful echo. Minho stared at him minutely, not saying anything, until he just shrugged, as if it was not a big deal.

“A wolf,” he said simply.

“The last time I checked _wolves_ couldn’t change into humans and vice versa,” the brunet pointed out, his hands shaking and he wondered why. He didn’t feel threatened, neither was he cold. But his body was like a string, ready to bolt out or maybe explode, he wasn’t sure.

“Oh?” the Asian finally moved from his spot, walking leisurely towards the fireplace and crouched down in front of the flames with a strange grace. Or maybe Thomas was imagining it, knowing what he really was, seeing how the muscles moved on his back and couldn’t thought anything else than there was this _strength_ hidden there, invisible now, but present. Or not knowing, since _wolf_ was a pretty sketchy term.

“And how many wolves have you met during your life, skipper? Let me guess,” Minho glanced at him, and his eyes were so dark and serious that Thomas felt a shiver traveling down his spine. “One?”

“That’s-,” Thomas took a deep breath and forced down the urge to tell Minho to stuff it, since the smug smile the wolf sent him made his blood boil. “Fine. So tell me more about this deal of ours. If there are more of you, there must be more of… me. The Red. Somewhere.”

 “There are more of us,” Minho replied surprisingly easily and sat down, motioning Thomas to join him there. The brunet shook his head and remained standing near the door, just to be sure. “Not sure how much more of _you_ though. Hopefully not as much, you’re making this far more difficult that it needs to be.”

“Me?” Thomas gasped and Minho rolled his eyes when he realized he was really not going to join him on the floor.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not playing hard to get here, so yeah, big boy. You.”

Thomas gritted his teeth, but refused to give in to Minho’s apparent effort to make him angry, so he counted to ten and then took few steps closer.

“There must be something that started this then,” he tried to get the conversation where he wanted it, to get some information out of this guy. “That deal, right? Because either you’re a lazy ass that wants somebody to bring you food, so you pulled out some fairy tale out of your ass to keep me in line. Or there is more to it.”

“Everything has _something that started it_ ,” Minho uttered, staring into the fire. “So what do you think was the catalyst here?”

“A lumberjack killed a wolf that ate the grandma and the Little Red Riding Hood, and then they threw him to the well and he drowned,” Thomas said confidently, because wow, he still remember this fairy tale with a strange clarity.

“Yuck,” Minho snorted. “That’s really annoyingly off.”

“Is it,” Thomas crossed his arms on his chest. “So what’s the truth then? What it started with?”

“With a rape,” Minho answered shortly and Thomas’ mouth silently worked _what_ like a goldfish. A _rape_? What? That definitely hadn’t been in the book, for god’s sake.

“The first Red was raped by your heroic lumberjack from her village,” Minho mumbled, his expression grim. “In the forest.”

“Are you kidding?” Thomas gaped and his body moved on its own, sitting down next to the wolf as he was offered before, eager to hear more. “There is no way… why would they make him a hero then? If he was just a rapist? That’s insane!”

“Humans,” the wolf drawled. “They only believe in things they want to. Not in things they are right.”

Thomas couldn’t help but stare. It didn’t make any sense. Where was the fairy tale background then? Where did they take the grandmother? And wasn’t Red Riding Hood just a little girl?

“He raped a little girl?” he breathed out in confusion and Minho barked out a laugh.

“A little girl? Red was ‘bout your age as far as I know,” he smirked, looking at him with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “The age fits, it always does. You get to it, you _know_.”

“I don’t know anything,” Thomas opposed, frowning unhappily. Minho smirked and let out a sigh.

“You’re just a slowpoke,” he commented in amusement, making Thomas pout a little.

“So what. He raped her, and then? He got a medal and became a hero?” he rather left it be and focused at the story again. Minho hummed and remained quiet for a moment; as if he decided to ignore the human for now. When Thomas wanted to poke him, Minho caught his hand in almost invisible motion, seizing his wrist in a deadly grip, and toppled him sharply to the ground, leaning above him like a threatening shadow.

“The wolf came,” he growled in a low voice. It vibrated through him like a stream of sounds and dangerous whispers and Thomas found himself not breathing or moving, only staring up, eyes wide like saucers. “And _ripped his throat out_.”

The grip on his wrist where Minho was holding him was firm and unforgiving, but Thomas didn’t have a single thought to move anyway. He took in a shuddering breath, his body shaking, and when Minho let out another growl, this time all the primal force and animalistic power sounding within him, he felt his throat tightening almost painfully.

“Capisce?” Minho said, suddenly all bright again and let go, leaving Thomas lying there absolutely paralyzed.

_What the actual fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> For some reason imagining Minho growling like that and leaning over Thomas made me feel kinda... mmmm, nice :D


	5. A Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not scared,” Thomas bit out, for a weird, unspecified reason, even though they both knew it was a lie. He was terrified. He couldn’t even breathe properly from the scene that unfolded just few moments ago, the threatening proximity and strength that radiated from the man, even though he was in his human form and not the wolf’s. Even though… he made him absolutely horrified. He saw how Minho reached out and his body immediately reacted and scrambled away from him until his back hit the wall.

“How long are you planning to lie there?”

Thomas made a guttural noise in the back of his throat, but his body refused to move, completely rigid. He wanted to sit up, but a crippling fear of being pushed down aggressively again stopped him from any attempt, so he just stayed there, staring into the ceiling full of spider webs.

Minho made a thoughtful sound in the back of the room and footsteps signalized he came closer, much to Thomas’ dismay.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” the wolf said quietly and then finally entered Thomas’ field of vision, crouching next to him with a strange expression on his face. “You, out of all people, have not a single reason to be scared.”

“I’m not _scared_ ,” Thomas bit out, for a weird, unspecified reason, even though they both knew it was a lie. He was _terrified_. He couldn’t even breathe properly from the scene that unfolded just few moments ago, the threatening proximity and strength that radiated from the man, even though he was in his human form and not the wolf’s. Even though… he made him absolutely horrified. He saw how Minho reached out and his body immediately reacted and scrambled away from him until his back hit the wall.

“The Wolf saved the Red, just so you know,” Minho sighed, but didn’t make any other attempt to get closer. He seemed strangely disappointed about it though. “Got hurt in the process.”

Thomas eyed him warily, but saw no real threat there. Minho’s shoulders slumped a bit, as if he gave up, and remained at the spot, sitting there like an abandoned puppy.

“The Wolf died?” Thomas asked cautiously while he tried to get his shaking hands under control. It wasn’t like Minho hurt him or anything. But he _could_ and that was what made him shaken more than he thought possible.

“She did,” Minho replied calmly. “The Red helped her to deliver a baby she carried.”

“It was a female wolf?” that caught Thomas’ attention, because he would never anticipate such outcome. The fairy tale didn’t really specify the gender of the wolf, at least he didn’t think so, but he always assumed it was a male – at least he usually got portrayed as one. Probably thanks to the vicious intent to actually _hurt_ people and _eat_ them. “So… she got cubs.”

“She got only one,” the wolf sat a little straighter, his body flexing up, making Thomas wonder if he would be able to change just a part of it if he wanted. Like having claws or the whole paws, or maybe just fangs. “Since she got hurt badly, she couldn’t deliver it without help, and the Red had to cut her open. There were three, but… two died. As well as the mother.”

Thomas felt an unexpected wave of sadness washing over him after hearing that. It was bizarre, really. He couldn’t be even sure if Minho was telling the truth or bullying him with some fancy story he just thought of, but it still resonated deep within him like a long-lost legend, reliable and tragic.

“So that cutting open thing…” he mumbled, trying to connect the dots. “They… filled the belly of the wolf with stones.”

“That’s true,” Minho agreed and inched a little closer – or was it Thomas’ imagination? He wasn’t sure. “The Red did so in order for the body to sink into the river where no one could find it.”

“Why…?”

“Who knows why exactly, it’s just a story,” Minho shrugged and yes, he definitely moved closer now, cautiously, but he did. Thomas tensed, so he stopped as if he got frozen and sat back again, even though only grudgingly. “It’s only natural for humans to make their own version. They don’t want to believe in such things as wolves being good. The big bad wolf in woods the story tells about? It was that cub from the First. He took care of Red because people from the village thought of Red as something evil.”

“Evil?”

“Filthy,” the wolf spitted the word out as if it personally offended him. “Not pure.”

“But that was the lumberjack…” Thomas opposed, watching his host in confusion, and there was something dark in Minho’s eyes for a moment. A distant memory maybe, a grudge he held, or possibly just distaste for the portrayed behaviour of the man.

“She lived with _a wolf_ ,” he pointed out. “A feared foe. Not to mention there was a man…”

“A man?” Thomas blinked in surprise, because he wouldn’t thought the Red would actually seek out another male when she got such a terrifying experience of being assaulted, maybe even by a person she trusted. He couldn’t imagine how it must have been for her, how much pain she had to endure in order to live through it.

“The wolf,” Minho explained and gestured to himself, as if he was giving an example. “They didn’t know. Rarely anyone knows.”

Thomas avoided his eyes and drew his knees under his chin. Such image, such story – it was difficult to swallow. He was never really big on fairy tales, but hearing this version of it… it definitely made him jittery.

“It’s a seven hundred years old story. There are things unsaid for sure,” Minho’s voice rumbled from the distance. “But the point is… the wolf is bound to help the Red, as the Red is bound to help the wolf. _Help_. Not _hurt_.”

Thomas frowned to himself and clenched his fists, trying to maintain some order in his jumbled thoughts, when he noticed a movement in the corner of his eye and suddenly a big wolf padded towards him in a slow pace.

The brunet’s body froze like a deer in highlights, but the beast didn’t stop, only slowed down, approaching cautiously until he was close enough to touch. Thomas felt his heart quickening, his breath getting shallow, and the fear from such proximity made him pale like a sheet of paper. The wolf tilted his head to the side and whined as if he was apologizing, but then he leaned forward again and nudged Thomas’ hand with his cold nose.

It was endearing somehow. Like having a big dog that only wanted to be petted and didn’t know _how_ to make the human to do so without being forceful. But Thomas felt it was _more_. Minho was trying to get him _understand_ the bound, somehow making himself vulnerable in this strong, unforgiving form, with claws that could tear him apart and fangs that could easily rip his throat out.

Thomas was scared, but he understood the importance of it, somehow. He flexed his hand and reached out, noting how his fingers shook and his breath hitched, and the wolf remained stationary, just waiting for the contact as if he was giving Thomas a choice.

Thomas took a deep breath and _touched_.

***

Thomas made it home with one hour reserve before his parents arrived, and he was grateful for that. At first he wasn’t sure if Minho would even let him leave, being in such _bonding_ mood he almost fell into a trance in front of the fireplace with Thomas sitting next to him and occasionally petting him when Minho nudged his hand. Thomas wasn’t really sure why it was important for the wolf, but he decided not to fight against it anymore, as far as it didn’t include anything drastic, like biting his fingers off or something.

A plus point of Minho’s wolf form was definitely the fur. He was like a big cuddly pillow, his black coat surprisingly soft and his ears twitchy when Thomas picked at them curiously. He let him do it, which probably had to made Thomas believe he was _safe_ from him, no matter what he did.

It was definitely a big turning point, knowing he wouldn’t hurt Thomas even though their initial encounter included snapping jaws and fiery eyes. Thomas thought of it as a proof of his dominance over the human, somehow, making it known he was stronger and deadlier, therefore superior. Thomas couldn’t argue over that fact – he wouldn’t even think of fighting with a guy who can turn into 80 kg heavy furry tank. If shit hit the fan, all he would think of included running – and that wouldn’t probably help him anyway.

The current situation was better though, friendlier even. Minho seemed keen on spending time in his wolf form better than a human one, and Thomas didn’t complain. He loved dogs anyway, so having suddenly this huge animal at his disposal was like a dream come true, even though he kept his hands more to himself when Minho wasn’t too pushy.

Thomas mom found him in the bed, which definitely scored him some plus points in her eyes. She checked his temperature, they both found out he was slightly feverish (he wasn’t even surprised after yesterday), and she made him tea and brought pills and let the topic of his late arrivals forgotten.

***

Thomas kept on thinking about the story he heard yesterday the whole math lesson. He barely listened to Teresa who tried to inform him about a movie or maybe a play, and he only slightly took notice of the fact they got homework.

At first he meant of going home, he really did, but his curiosity had the best of him and he changed his mind halfway to his house and turned around to get to the woods. He wasn’t even surprised Minho hadn’t been waiting for him as usual, since he was not _on duty_ today, but he got to the hut anyway, and in a surprisingly short time too.

The place was cold and dark with Minho apparently away, and Thomas crouched in front of the fireplace in a slight disappointment. He noticed the supplies of wood increased and snorted when he imagined Minho chopping the wood in front of the hut like in a TV commercial. He definitely could have been in one; ladies would love him – as well as his evident distaste in wearing any clothes. Thomas thought Minho decided to remain in his wolf form mainly because of this reason, as if pants offended him somehow, and being a wolf made him free of its confinement.

He threw two chunks of wood into a surprisingly cleaned fireplace ( _had Minho been cleaning the place? For real?_ ) and found wood splinters on the other side, to make starting the fire easier.

“Wow,” he mumbled, reaching for it slowly. “He should be careful or he would actually be like a proper human…”

Once the place was properly warmed, he dragged one of the furs off the pile and put it on the floor in front of the source of heat, staring into flames dumbly. Why had he even come here? Yesterday he was scared shitless to see the wolf again, and today he came willingly, even though he didn’t need to, just to find the place empty, but staying anyway. It wasn’t like it had something to offer without Minho here, it was just a shabby place with poor isolation and a distinctive smell – not the very bad one, Thomas wouldn’t say it _reeked_ here, but it definitely smelled like a dog was living here. He got used to it, but when he came back home and undressed, his clothes smelled that way too and his mom was giving him a weird looks for it every time she did the laundry.

He let out a sigh and reached for his bag, pulling out the homework he had, just to kill some time before Minho would be back. _If_ he gets back, that was it. Thomas couldn’t say he would, didn’t know for sure, and definitely hadn’t have any form of communication that could alert the man he was here and he wanted to… to… What did he even want? To talk? He’d be in his wolf form anyway, and that killed the communication right from the start. He could ask him questions, but the beast would only huff in response, maybe bark or growl, but it definitely hadn’t been the richest conversation ever.

And yet he was here. Sometimes he really couldn’t understand his own thoughts or motives.

***

Minho _did_ arrive an hour or so later, Thomas wasn’t sure, completely caught up in the math problem he couldn’t get a hang of. The big wolf trotted inside of the hut and Thomas thought he looked somehow happy to find Thomas there, probably even smelling him miles away, because he bounced to him and basically toppled him, just to get some contact. It would be sort of cute, if he hadn’t been so damn heavy and big, almost crushing Thomas under him while he kept on rubbing his head over the brunet’s torso and neck, reminding him of a small dog his mom used to own. It was really a tiny dog in comparison to Minho, and he tended to do that too when they came back home, all happy and butt wiggling, until they picked him up and cuddled him (although it also meant getting scratched, because he was _so_ happy his whole body was moving like crazy and paws tried to get some contact as well, leaving them with vicious red lines over their necks after his greeting). Minho definitely couldn’t be picked up, and probably not even cuddled, since he was almost as big as Thomas, especially when Thomas was sitting (at that point he was actually taller than him when he sat down next to him, just a huge pile of black fur. When he put one of his paws on Thomas chest, it was filling the whole area, that’s how big his paws were).

In the end, he slobbered all over Thomas homework and that was the end of being productive for the brunet. Thomas tried to gain some dignity, but the wolf refused to get up and so he remained trapped under him until his legs fell asleep.

As did the wolf. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I hope it makes sense T^T The whole thing with Red Riding Hood is probably complicated atm T^T  
> Also! My god, cuddly wolf, I want. So much fluff.


	6. The Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you just… run around or… hunt squirrels or…?”  
> The wolf stared at him from his spot in front of the tree and Thomas let out a sigh.  
> “I’d maybe appreciate if you spend a bit more time in your human form, you know,” he suggested. “So we can actually talk.”  
> The wolf huffed, almost in annoyance, and Thomas didn’t even need him to talk for it.  
> “Yes, it means with pants at least,” he confirmed Minho’s unhappiness with the suggestion. “It’s fine if you prefer the wolf form better. Was just an idea. I’m a dog person after all, it’s all good.”

It was an early February and it grew colder day by day, so when the fireplace was already lit when Thomas got to Minho’s Hilton, it was like Christmas. When the weather was nice and sun actually favoured the city with its presence, Minho drew Thomas out with him to play tag, which was also a bit unfair because in his wolf form it was really difficult to catch him or not being caught in reverse.

Thomas thought it was also pretty hilarious when he teasingly threw him a stick and Minho actually shot off to find it. When he brought it, all covered in slobber, Thomas nearly broke in half from laughter.

“You must be bored here, all by yourself,” Thomas said two and half a week later from their first meeting. They were running through the woods for at least half an hour now, Minho adopting a slower, friendlier pace while Thomas was with him, until they finally stopped to rest. Not that Minho needed it, he kept on trotting back and forth, but the brunet had to breathe out for a moment. He wasn’t used to running as much, his lungs barely kept up with the pace.

“I mean, what do you do all day? Except when I visit,” Thomas continued, climbing on the fallen tree trunk and sitting there with to rest his feet. He should have probably taken a jacket, since he took off only in his jeans and a black hoodie (he wasn’t brave enough to take the red one again, he felt it would be too bold, or too taunting), and the chilly air was slowly getting to him once he stopped moving.

“Do you just… run around or… hunt squirrels or…?”

The wolf stared at him from his spot in front of the tree and Thomas let out a sigh.

“I’d maybe appreciate if you spend a bit more time in your human form, you know,” he suggested. “So we can actually _talk_.”

The wolf huffed, almost in annoyance, and Thomas didn’t even need him to talk for it.

“Yes, it means with _pants_ at least,” he confirmed Minho’s unhappiness with the suggestion. “It’s fine if you prefer the wolf form better. Was just an idea. I’m a dog person after all, it’s all good.”

Minho rudely yawned.

“Fine, jerkface,” Thomas snorted and jumped off the log. “Forget it. You’re a pain to look at anyway.”

He wasn’t surprised when he earned a bark and had to run from an offended wolf for at least half a mile. It would probably be more serious if he hadn’t been laughing the whole way.

***

“Where have you been going all the time?” Teresa asked curiously when Thomas packed his bag hastily to shot out of the school as always, and she left with him. “You’re always in such a hurry lately.”

“Running,” he replied with a shrug. He hadn’t been lying – they were running almost every day now, as well as Thomas kept on visiting 5 times a week, so basically always after school. Well, he usually skipped Tuesday because his mom was home early, but at least he could spend most of the day there on Saturday. It became a habit, sort of, and he found himself looking forward to each visit, even though all they did was strolling through the woods or just huddling in front of the fireplace with Minho getting all _pawsy_ when Thomas ignored him (or better, tried to do some of his school work - the wolf didn’t have any understanding for being ignored because of some piece of paper, so he usually did all he could to get Thomas off the track. It gradually intensified when Thomas refused to give in to the first nudge of his cold nose. Then it was a paw on his thigh, sudden standing up and walking around while trying to get his head under Thomas’ arm, and in the end he just laid his head over Thomas’ notes and remained there stubbornly).

“Running,” Teresa repeated incredulously. “You.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, refusing to tell her even a single hint about the current situation. She would probably freak out anyway, even if she just thought Minho was a wolf and not somebody who can change into human. Maybe she would freak out even more if she thought Minho’s a guy living in the woods with whom Thomas kept on meeting after school without the whole wolf mojo. The wolf sounded better at that point.

“With whom?” she asked again and Thomas shook his head.

“Alone,” he just uttered and before she could react he waved her goodbye and left her to it. When Teresa set up her mind onto something, she could get really annoying, he already lived through it. He wasn’t interested in having her snooping around the woods – or Minho – because she could make a bigger deal out of anything than it actually was.

***

The woods were quiet and cold and Minho hadn’t been waiting for him, which was slowly becoming a habit. Thomas knew the way, after many trips through the _Maze_ he felt like he would be able to find the hut even during the dark night, since Minho just got lazy and decided not to help out. Thomas hadn’t really minded anymore though.

Today was warmer, not as freezing and actually more pleasant to spend the time outside, so he didn’t need to rush as much to get warmer. He usually made it to the hut in less than 20 minutes, and today was even faster, which he probably owed to Minho’s constant running exercises.

“It’s pretty warm outside today, wanna go for a walk?” he said right the moment he entered, letting his bag fall down on the floor.

“Only if you have a proper leash or I may bite people,” came an answer and Thomas stutter to halt in shock at first. Minho was sitting in front of the fireplace in his human form, _clothed_ with pants and a shirt as well, and apparently just made the fire, since the room was still a bit chilly.

“You look like an idiot,” he deadpanned, glancing at Thomas over his shoulder and the brunet quickly shook the dumbfounded expression off his face and closed the door behind him.

“Sorry, I just… didn’t expect you to be here,” he admitted sheepishly, shedding off his jacket.

“You just talked to me,” Minho pointed out, turning to him a bit more and looked somewhat expectant.

“I mean like a human,” Thomas rolled his eyes and Minho barked a laugh while patting the place next to him.

“What?” Thomas stared at the spot, and it was awkward somehow, like he got so used to the dog Minho that the human version made him strangely shy. He wasn’t even sure why, it was the same being, only talkative – and it was him who asked Minho for it yesterday anyway. It was a nice thing he actually heed the wish and decided to stay human, even got clothed, while he wasn’t very happy about it.

“What what,” the wolf snorted, his hand remained on the floor. “Come take a place?”

“Oh,” Thomas finally understood – and really, why was he so surprised? He always sat there once he came in, next to the wolf who immediately leaned into him – it was normal. But this wasn’t a wolf, was it. It was… different?

He slowly approached and sat down gingerly, noting the proximity immediately, and then Minho suddenly leaned into him like he used to, as if he expected to be petted, and Thomas almost fell on the floor how he tried to avoid the contact. Before he could even remain the balance, Minho stopped and then did it once more, an apparent smirk playing on his face, and at that point Thomas couldn’t hold up anymore and ended on his back. Minho remained above him, basically crouching over him, and grinned like a loon.

“You know what’s really funny about humans?” he asked, his tone amused, and Thomas felt a cold sweat breaking on his skin. He wasn’t afraid, not anymore – the wolf form was definitely more threatening than this one – but the self-consciousness crashed into him like a tidal wave, and his fingers twitched nervously, eyes darting everywhere but the Asian above him.

“Funny…?” he piped quietly, noting how Minho’s hands imprisoned him between them, remaining at the each side of Thomas head, supporting the whole weight of the man.

“A simple contact is such an issue for you,” the wolf informed him. “You’re fine with the wolf. But you act like a blushing virgin when I get close like this.”

“You don’t need to say it like _that_ …” the brunet frowned and it made Minho smirk even more. He was practically _glowing_.

“Just a fact,” he shrugged and his whole body moved with it. Thomas refused to stare. “You’d be petting me right now if I was a wolf.”

“Well…”

“You’re used to the touching part already,” Minho said simply. “So why is it an issue now?”

“It’s _different_ ,” Thomas opposed, wriggling under him nervously. How can he not see that? _Petting a wolf is easy, because it’s… like a dog! But petting a guy is… uh._

“It’s not different at all,” the human wolf responded. “A touch is a touch.”

“You’re not furry anymore,” Thomas shot out lamely and Minho quirked an eyebrow.

“Not _everywhere…_ ” his eyes dropped down and Thomas groaned, immediately regretting his stupid mouth for even saying that. “Wait, do you have a kink or what?”

“No!” the brunet shrieked in frustration. “God, you are so much _better_ as a wolf!”

“Nah, I like this form more,” Minho’s lips twitched how he was trying to stop himself from laughing, Thomas could tell. His presence was strangely overwhelming, too powerful, and he didn’t need to have all those claws and fangs and flaming red eyes – and yet Thomas felt like he had to submit somehow, and that worried him. He radiated the raw power like a beacon and Thomas squirmed under the pressure, and it wasn’t even physical.

“You get all twitchy,” the wolf added, and yes, he was literally teasing him now, damn that guy. “Not to mention… you wanted to be able to talk, right?”

“You like being wolf more,” Thomas refused stubbornly and tried to push that stubborn guy off. Minho didn’t budge an inch, no matter how hard Thomas tried to push into his chest. “You weight a ton!”

“That’s not something a girl wants to hear, man, so rude,” Minho shot back and he was laughing, literally shaking with waves and waves of pure laughter, and it changed him so much Thomas _did_ stare, and he couldn’t stop, he just gawked in awe he even stopped pushing him away.

“So from now on,” Minho still chuckled, but his face softened. “We are going to work on _touching_ like this.”

“But why?” Thomas asked, and he wanted to sound like it was no big deal, but it came out as barely a whisper, a weak protest that wasn’t heard.

“Because we are bound together,” Minho replied confidently. “And I want to show you it’s a good thing.”

Thomas wondered if Minho knew it sounded like a proposal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> How easy do you think scratching Minho behind the ear in his human form would be? :D Or any human, really :D


	7. A Good Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dad, are you serious?” he greeted his parent with an evil glare and his father just smirked knowingly. He probably knew very well Thomas would take off as soon as he would leave the building, damn him. “This is downright degrading. I’m not a girl in distress, six years old infant or an old lady who needs a lift to the hospital, Jesus. I have legs. And a school bus.”

****

“This is ridiculous,” Thomas uttered.

Minho didn’t seem to share that opinion, because he remained where he was – with his head on Thomas’ thigh, looking up at him with a wide grin. The hut was pretty warm now, so sitting on the floor (or better – on one of the furs Minho put there before Thomas even arrived) in front of the fireplace was pleasant. Minho refused to move away since their conversation and Thomas wondered what exactly he thought this _touching_ had to include. Wolf or not, Minho was still a guy, and cuddly on top of that, which really didn’t seem like something you would expect from such a person if you saw him for a first time. As if there was nothing entirely scary about him anymore with the constant smile on his lips, no red eyes, no frown or growling. He looked content and Thomas wondered if it really was because of him, because he was the Red, because the _legend_ said so.

“Why is the bond so important?” he asked before he could stop himself, how his thoughts process grew in intensity, and Minho reached up and caught Thomas’ hand, slowly bringing it to his head. Thomas slapped him over it and earned a pout.

“It fulfils the circle,” the wolf hmphed when he realized Thomas wouldn’t let him do what he wanted. “Gives you this… feeling of accomplishment.”

“Accomplishment?” Thomas raised his eyebrows and Minho gave out a little shrug.

“Like it fits.”

“What fits?” the brunet asked doubtfully.

“Everything,” Minho let out a sigh. Thomas could see he was struggling with words, trying to find something to describe it better, but then he just shook his head and apparently gave up. “You don’t get it, do you.”

“No,” Thomas replied in all honesty, and couldn’t help the shame washing over him. It must have been important somehow, but understanding all of this seemed above his capabilities. Minho hummed momentarily and then rolled over, resting his chin on Thomas thigh like it was completely normal.

“It will come to you,” he assured him softly. “It came to me too.”

Thomas didn’t want to doubt him, so he just nodded quietly, trying not to think of Minho’s current position that much. That guy was really like a dog, but actually petting him like one seemed ridiculous.

“You’re all I hoped you’d be,” he heard the wolf mumble, and it was so gentle and deep Thomas couldn’t find anything to say to that.

***

“Thomas,” his father’s voice echoed the hallway right the moment Thomas set a foot inside of the house. It was already dark outside and all he wanted was to take a shower and go to sleep. He smelled terrible because Minho thought it’s hilarious to drag him outside (“Didn’t you want to take me for a walk?” “As a dog!” “How rude.”) and push him into the bushes on their run around the glade, just to show him he didn’t need to be a wolf to play pranks. Thomas dropped there like a sack of potatoes and the mud and moss reeked viciously, so when he draped back on feet while Minho almost cried from laughter, he looked atrocious and smelled even worse.

“Dad?” he looked up from getting rid of his muddy shoes and immediately spotted his father in the hallway with his arm crossed – which meant serious business. It was usually his mom who made those badass appearances, and who scolded him for most of the time, but when his father did it… it really meant something serious.

“Your teacher called today,” he informed Thomas sternly, his voice tight like Robin Hood’s pants. “Why are you skipping class?”

_Well, fuck._

Thomas gulped loudly and his mind turned unhelpfully blank. Minho was the reason, but he couldn’t tell his dad, could he? Or maybe he could, since there _should_ be a connection, but… it definitely hadn’t seemed like the proper time to introduce the wolf like this.

“I, uh…” he fidgeted, scrambling for words, but nothing came. His father knew it would only be a lie if he let him think longer, so he cleared his throat menacingly and Thomas knew he was screwed.

“Something happened in school?” he asked in a serious voice, and Thomas recognized the _you know you can talk to us, son, does someone bully you_ was coming right up. “You know you can talk to us. Is someone bothering you, son?”

He would high-five himself if he wasn’t so majorly screwed. His father always cared a bit too much for Thomas’ consciousness, which was black as a night at the moment. He wasn’t keen on lying to his parents – or to anyone – and this situation already made him uneasy. He looked away guiltily and bit his lower lip, slowly giving up any hope for finding a proper excuse that could lead his parents astray.

“You did something?” his dad asked again, and there was that accusatory tone he knew, the one he hated, because it smelled like disappointment, and he didn’t want that.

“No,” he responded slowly. “I haven’t done anything, dad.”

_At least not anything illegal._

“So what’s the problem?” his father approached him and immediately scrunched his nose in discomfort. “And why do you smell like a dump?”

“Played football,” he tried lamely. “The field was wet and I slipped…”

“Your mom is going to be pissed off,” his dad informed him with a sigh and Thomas didn’t need to hear that. She always had been these past few days, because his clothes never came out very fresh from his trip to the woods. “So what?”

“It’s nothing, dad. Really,” he mumbled, pulling at his dirty hoodie unhappily. He had this _talk_ when he was about 15 the last time, and that was mainly because he couldn’t stop playing stupid games and his grades were dropping drastically. He always led such a boring life, and suddenly there was something bigger and more important, and he didn’t know how to break the news to his own family.

“That nothing is making you skip your classes,” his father didn’t buy it. Of course, when had he? He was like radar for lies, even better than Thomas’ mom, and that was saying something. He secretly accused her she had been a spy in her past life – or maybe before she married his dad.

“It won’t happen again, I swear,” Thomas promised with a hopeful voice and his dad sighed. A good sign, he showed his weak spot – he was a big softy.

“Also, why are you always coming home late? You were never this late before,” he pointed out and Thomas had to agree that today was probably the longest time he spent in the woods so far. The clock showed something around 10 PM and he blamed Minho for it – that guy just refused to let him go and kept on dragging him around the forest, showing him hunting spots and actually sort of charming hidden places, and if that didn’t feel like some serious Disney shit, then Thomas probably had been dreaming all that time. But it was fun, it was interesting and more importantly he _enjoyed it_. Maybe also because Minho seemed to have a great time too, his mood strangely contagious.

“I’m trying to be more fit,” he quickly shot out. It wasn’t even a lie – he might have not really aiming for it, but the constant movement did only good to his body. “So, I’m running. Y’know. To build up some muscles and stamina.”

“Running,” his dad repeated doubtfully and Thomas nodded with an innocent smile. It wasn’t a lie, so it could be a good cover point, making his father believe him a bit more. Once he got one brownie point, there was a higher chance to get his father to his side and team up against mom.

“I don’t want to see you skipping more classes,” his dad said resolutely and yes, there it was, he gave in, Thomas was safe. “Are we clear?”

“Yessir!”

“You’re also grounded for a month. FYI.”

“Whaaaat? Dad!” Thomas whined loudly but his dad already disappeared inside the living room, ending the conversation like a guillotine. The brunet cursed like a sailor and stomped to his own room, fuming along the way. He didn’t know what scared him the most – that he got grounded for the first time in his life or that his dad started using acronyms.

Probably the latter.

***

At first Thomas thought he could make it really fast to the woods to drop the food, inform Minho about the situation, and get back home sooner before his father would notice, but he was very, very wrong. Once he left the school as he should, being there the whole class impatiently (Teresa even called him names for being so twitchy all the time), his father’s car was already standing in the parking lot, waiting for him there.

“Dad, are you serious?” he greeted his parent with an evil glare and his father just smirked knowingly. He probably knew very well Thomas would take off as soon as he would leave the building, damn him. “This is downright degrading. I’m not a girl in distress, six years old infant or an old lady who needs a lift to the hospital, Jesus. I have legs. And a school bus.”

“You’re also very grounded,” the older man informed him sweetly. “And I’m only making sure you stay that way for the time being. You should be happy, son. Less running for you. Your _stamina_ is going to be proud of you.”

Thomas totally didn’t pout.

“Gee, thanks,” he grumbled, throwing his bag to the car first and then climbing in like an angry child. “But my manly pride is shattered.”

“Your mother is cooking lasagne,” his dad chirped happily and Thomas sighed dramatically.

“Not buying it!”

***

On the second thought Thomas was planning to get up a bit earlier and do the trip to the woods in the morning, _before_ the school. He had it all lined out, properly thought through; he even counted on having a time reserve if Minho would get too handsy (as he always had lately).

His father had different plans, already sitting in the kitchen with his enigmatic smile. Thomas was sure his mom set him up for it, with her CIA connections.

He cursed very loudly and got grounded for another week for using a word “fuck” in eight different versions in one sentence and not stopping even after he got warned about it.

***

On the fifth day his mom came inside the house after she dumped the trash in a dust bin, with a perplexed expression on her face. They were just setting up for dinner and she seemed quite anxious about something.

“There is a huge dog outside our house,” she announced in the kitchen. “Sitting there.”

“What?” both Thomas and his dad raised their heads from their plates and she looked outside of the kitchen window onto the dark street.

“I think he got lost,” she mumbled. “Although I don’t recall anyone having such a big dog there…”

Before she could even turn back, Thomas bolted out of the house like a devil from a box, his heart beating wildly in his chest. It had to be Minho – who else would it be? Of course he would come; it had been five days without a single contact! He should have known.

And yeah, there he was, sitting in front of their house, looking back expectantly. Thomas couldn’t even thought of consequences if he came during the bright day and more people had seen him – he actually couldn’t believe his mother considered him _a dog_ and not a bloody wolf, because that was exactly how he looked like.

“Minho!” Thomas grumbled. “What are you doing here?!”

The wolf nosed the boy’s palm and sniffled a bit. It was a tender gesture, not angry, which made Thomas relieved. He could have been snarling at him now and that would definitely end badly in the middle of the city.

“Geez, sorry mate,” he offered a scratched behind the wolf’s ear, not even protesting when Minho crowded him unhappily (or happily, it was hard to tell, he wasn’t wagging his tail, but there was an insistence in his movement). “I got grounded for skipping class, couldn’t get to you.”

He seemed alright, no wounds or excessive dirt on his fur, so Thomas hoped he survived just enough, maybe really caught some squirrel for dinner.

“You know who he belongs to?” his father’s voice made him jump a little, he completely forgot about being in front of his own house. He glanced back, not leaving his hand off Minho’s head, and tried to look as much innocent as he could.

“He doesn’t belong to anyone,” he tried lamely. “He is a bit… stray. I took care of him. Kinda. Um.”

“So that’s why you’ve packed so much food with you every day!” his mom exclaimed with a small laugh. “I thought you have been feeding somebody, but didn’t think of you getting so helpful towards a stray. You should have told us.”

“Sorry…” he muttered and Minho pushed into him stubbornly, as if he tried to demand more attention.

“He behaves?” his dad asked suspiciously, watching Minho from the door and Thomas quickly nodded, sensing a chance to get out of this with a clean consciousness.

“Of course he does, dad,” he assured him with a big smile. “He is a good doggie, right, boy?”

He petted the wolf maybe too firmly, but at least Minho took a hint. He even let his parents to pet him without incident, but Thomas was pretty sure he was going to complain about that charade later, judging from the huff he sent his way once Thomas’ mom allowed them both inside the house.

Thomas couldn’t stop grinning for calling him _a good boy_.

He should have showed his parents the fetch trick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Yay for the domesticity :D


	8. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You said it runs in our families,” he pointed out quietly and Minho only nodded. He was definitely agitated now, as if he was ready to pounce.   
> “But I didn’t know about it,” Thomas mumbled, watching him insistently. “And neither did my parents, you saw for yourself. My mom thinks you are a big dog.”

“Sorry for not letting you know,” Thomas mumbled once they got to his room and Minho started sniffing from one corner to another. “But you must admit I don’t really have any way to send you a message, if you don’t have a homing pigeon going on. I don’t think your little hut has any address on it for a post either…”

Minho sneezed loudly near the table and Thomas smirked. It was really strange to have him here, padding around the room and catching smells, while Thomas’ parents were downstairs, aware that he was here. Minho was rather awkward, like an elephant in the room, too big and apparently not really knowing where to stop, how to sit for not taking too much space or stepping on something, and Thomas had to agree his place was never the beacon of cleanness. There must be so many distinctive smells around he sort of understood why the wolf had been huffing now and then.

“My parents decided I need to be punished somehow for the absence, and my dad is very thorough about it, so he literally kept me in bay, even picking me up from school, can you believe it?” Thomas said once Minho started sniffing around his chair, and reached for his laptop. “I know it sucks, but there was no way I could let you know.”

“I was worried,” Minho’s voice sounded behind him, quiet but anxious. “I’ve wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Thomas turned around before he could think about it and groaned at the sight, because really? Minho just had to keep on doing this when he could see him _whole_.

“Geez, Minho… pants!”

“Sorry,” the wolf mumbled and Thomas quickly jumped off his bed and dived to his wardrobe for the baggiest pants he could find – after all Minho was a little different build than him, more muscular and sturdier. He threw at least that piece of clothing at his guest and waited until the man gained some dignity before he turned back, after the rustling of clothes ceased.

“So, you were saying?” he asked with a sigh, seeing Minho finally in a manageable state, and hoped his mom won’t decide to come up check up on them. He didn’t know how he would explain a guy in his room all of the sudden – unless they knew already and were just playing with him. With his parents anything was possible, and since Minho said it runs in a family, he wouldn’t be even surprised by it.

“I was worried,” Minho repeated, his voice unsteady. Not something Thomas was used to with him, he seemed genuinely upset. “That something happened to you.”

“Awww, that’s so nice, man. You’re worried about me,” the brunet teased to lighten up the mood a little, waiting for the wolf to deny it and joke about it, but Minho only held his gaze with a serious face. There was something strange about the situation, like he waited for an apology, or maybe just reassurance that Thomas was indeed alright and it was just a minor hiccup in the normally smooth cooperation. Not to mention he didn’t even try to come close and get Thomas to touch him somehow, and that already screamed _unnatural_ at him like a siren.

“I don’t understand why you are so surprised about it,” Minho retorted after a moment of silence, as if he was trying to find the right words until now. “It’s my commitment to keep you safe after all.”

Thomas’ smile faded slowly. A _commitment_ \- it sounded so sterile all of sudden. Minho seemed to be happy about the arrangement before, but now it reminded him of a _duty_ , like he _had to_ , not because he wanted to spend time with Thomas around. It was bizarre, because it was him after all who wanted Thomas to come to the woods all this time, right?

“You’re making it sound so clinical,” Thomas pointed out unhappily, but Minho’s face remained stony and serious.

“It’s how it is, Red.”

Thomas blinked – he called him _Red_ very rarely, usually just to make a point or tease Thomas with it, but now it sounded almost like an unattached title, like from somebody that wasn’t this cuddly guy anymore.

“Alright, maybe we need to talk about this a little bit more now,” Thomas admitted and sat back on his bed, patting the free spot next to him. Minho seemed to hesitate for a moment, which already was a bad sign, but then took the spot anyway. His body radiated tenseness, almost painful one, something Thomas never seen on him before and it worried him.  

“What do you want to know?” the wolf asked momentarily, not even looking at him, like a stubborn child that held a tantrum. Thomas wanted to slap him over his head for it, but calmed himself down and it only showed in his frown.

“What exactly is this pact about, between Wolf and Red?” he asked flatly, because did he ever? They never really talked about the real deal before. He knew the legend, or at least what Minho decided to tell him, but nothing more about the pact that seemed to hold a high importance for the wolf. Not to mention it suddenly became some sort of grim stuff with the protectiveness, and Thomas needed to know why – and why he felt _nothing_.

“The first Wolf and Red are bound to each other by an ancient promise sealed by blood,” Minho spoke up in a lower voice. It sounded a little eerie and dark, like reciting an oath or reading from an ancient book full of forgotten curses. “In every generation they are drawn to each other to intertwine their destinies as it was before them. They protect each other. They live with each other. They live _for_ each other.”

Thomas watched him for a moment, trying to imagine how exactly that would feel, but came up with nothing at all. He liked Minho, he really did, he was an interesting person, not to mention his wolf side. Spending time with him turned easily into a favourite activity.

But he didn’t feel _drawn_ to him like that. Not seeing him for five days was maybe a little strange and worrisome, but he definitely didn’t suffer through it, as Minho seemed to do.

“You said it runs in our families,” he pointed out quietly and Minho only nodded. He was definitely agitated now, as if he was ready to pounce.

“But I didn’t know about it,” Thomas mumbled, watching him insistently. “And neither did my parents, you saw for yourself. My mom thinks you are _a big dog_.”

He saw how Minho frowned to himself, keep looking at the floor, and Thomas cleared his throat nervously. He was right, wasn’t he? His parents knew nothing, he reached _the age_ but nothing appeared – it had to have a cause.

“Me and you…” he took a deep breath, a little ashamed to actually draw the conclusion like that. “ _We_ are not drawn to each other. There is… _nothing_ going on, is there.“

The wolf’s face broke into a shocked one and he suddenly whipped around to stare at Thomas fiercely. His red eyes flared and Thomas felt his heart speeding up.

“There _is_ ,” the wolf growled. “I was out of my _mind_ when you didn’t come to me for _five_ fucking days!”

“But I wasn’t,” Thomas whispered. “I wasn’t bothered that much, I just… thought you might be hungry, but… Is this really what it should be? I mean, you obviously seem affected, but… why am I not?”

A flash of hurt passed Minho’s face, like a sliver of painful revelation, and then his expression darkened and it looked _evil_ , dangerously _angry._

“You are _not_ the Red.”

It was more like statement but it still felt like a question, so Thomas felt obligated to answer honestly. It bothered him from the first time Minho told him about the deal, all the feelings he should have, and there was nothing inside of him of such degree, just pleasantness from the companionship, but nothing this fierce and hungry that the wolf manifested.

“I don’t think so, no,” he echoed. It felt wrong on his tongue, like a badly covered up lie, but he was completely honest and he wanted Minho to know.

“But you still did what Red should do,” Minho stated suddenly, but his angry posture stayed, and Thomas squirmed under the weight of his burning stare.

“You said you’ll kill someone if I don’t,” he murmured. “And you snapped your teeth one inch from my neck too.”

“You did it because you’re afraid?”

It sounded disbelieving, Thomas noted. Maybe also hurt, like Minho couldn’t even understand the reasoning.

“I _was_ ,” he corrected the wolf hastily. Of course, when he did something scary, like flashing his eyes or growling at him like he wanted to eat him alive, yes, he felt the fear inside of him. But it was rare and he grew comfortable around the wolf. ”I’m not now, because I got to know you.”

He tried to smile, to lighten up the mood somehow, to show his support, but Minho didn’t smile back at all. He was scowling like a dark cloud, like a dangerous creature that just got denied its meal and yes, _yes_ Thomas felt the fear creeping on him again.

“We don’t have any bond,” Minho growled deeply, a loud rumble coming from his chest, and Thomas could say his hair stood up a bit at that. It was like the first night he met him, the uncertainty if he was going to get eaten or spared.

“We are friends…?” he tried to smooth it, but Minho snarled wildly.

“We are _not_ friends!” he hissed angrily. “We are not bonded by blood, we are _nothing_!”

Thomas felt his throat tighten. He really didn’t want to feel offended or sad, but it still bubbled inside of his chest like a liquid fire and it _hurt_. He wanted to turn it into his only weapon – sarcasm – but nothing came. He was empty and couldn’t believe the sudden loss that crashed into him unmercifully. He tried to hold it inside of him, but it swelled like a balloon and he gasped for air and opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the wolf suddenly caught him by his shoulders and pinned him to the bed in one swift motion.

“I have to make one, or I’ll go crazy. I need… to do something,” Minho croaked, and his voice sounded pained and full of strain, it made Thomas’ breath hitch.

“What are you talking about…?” he breathed out and Minho’s pupils were blown wide and unfocused when he leaned over him. The grip on his shoulders was on board of painful, but the wolf didn’t seem to realize it, he just pushed forward. “Minho?!”

The wolf stuck his face into Thomas’ neck and breathed in deeply.

“You have to say yes,” he started mumbling against his skin, a desperate whisper. “Thomas. You have to… say yes. Say it, please. _Say yes_.”

“To what-?” the brunet gasped in shock when he felt Minho nipping on his flesh and then licking it soothingly. It almost petrified him, because what the hell was going on? He couldn’t move him an inch, he couldn’t get fight him off, and he was close, _so close_ and sounding like the world was ending and Thomas had been his only saviour.

“You have to let me. Let me bond with you, please. Please, please, please, let me,” the mumbling continued and Thomas shivered. Minho’s hands were gripping his shoulders so tight it hurt and his head was spinning.

“Are you crazy?! Minho, let me go!” he spitted out wildly and trashed around furiously. “What gotten into you, you crazy ass werewolf?!”

“I need you, Thomas. Please, please, just let me… say you want to, I… please, tell me-,”

“ _Get off_!”

And with that the hands disappeared, and so did the solid weight of Minho’s body and Thomas took a deep breath to calm himself down. His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest; he trembled all over and couldn’t stop. The wolf was crouched at the opposite wall, breathing raggedly, his body stiff. He looked vulnerable and _afraid_ and Thomas didn’t understand.

“This is all wrong,” Minho whimpered when their eyes met. “I can’t do this without it. _I can’t_.”

And with that he was gone. Thomas stared one whole minute at the window Minho disappeared into and then collapsed on his bed once more.

This was so fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad.
> 
> Dundunduuun.


	9. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, I’m really not,” Thomas grumbled, because hell, he couldn’t just become The Red! It was given by bloodline, it ran in a family, there was no naming of somebody by this title. He had to be born with it, and that sucked. As far as he knew… he wouldn’t even mind being The Red. At least not for Minho. It just felt… right. Probably not as deep as it would be with the right bloodline, but he thought it gave him a deeper meaning of life, something bigger and more important than school and grades. That he was part of something ancient and important.

When Thomas arrived to school the next day, he felt his mind slipping away against his will. He thought about the scene the whole night and he couldn’t stop thinking of it the whole day too. There must have been something he missed, something Minho didn’t tell him, right? He looked genuinely upset at first, all serious and duty like, and after he learned Thomas apparently wasn’t his _fated one_ , his _Red_ , he literally freaked out of his mind.

But what did he want from him? Did he want to bite him? Was it the bond he was talking about? Make him one of them, so he felt connected? But why? If Thomas wasn’t the Red, then he just had to find the right one, no? Why would he bother by making another bond with somebody else?

Not to mention it was so out of anything Thomas expected, he didn’t even know _how_ to react. Minho sounded so desperate and broken, and when he left he seemed like he couldn’t even properly hold together as it was, so shaken and wide-eyed. It didn’t make any sense, he was livid, his body so tense and the grip he had on Thomas’ shoulders left colourful marks when the brunet checked this morning, as if he was mauled by a bear. He appeared so out of control and _scared_ that Thomas couldn’t get that image out of his head.

Why was he so pleading towards him? What exactly he wanted for Thomas to say yes to? It seemed like the consent was the most important thing and he couldn’t move forward without it, and that thought alone was pounding into his sanity so hard he just snapped.

Or maybe the reason was simple. Maybe it was just a sentiment? What if he had just gotten used to him this much he wanted to keep him?

_Geez, keep him. It sounded so bad saying it out loud._

_Wait, out loud?_

Thomas blinked and laughed nervously when his classmates around him gave him weird looks. Teresa was actually staring at him as if he grew another head and he clearly noticed how Alby a row next to him had this smirk going on.

“What are you talking about?” Teresa said to him in a hushed tone, her eyes wide and Thomas gulped down the awkwardness that bloomed inside of him immediately.

“Nothing,” he quickly mumbled, fidgeting on the spot, and heard how Alby chuckled at that.

“Got a boyfriend, Little Red?” the dark-skinned boy smirked at him from his desk and Thomas narrowed his eyes. This moron started it all after all, dumping him in the woods and calling him…

“ _Red Riding Hood_ ,” Thomas breathed out in realisation and seized Alby in an accusing glare. He felt Teresa leaning forward to hear them better, and noticed how Alby’s raised an eyebrow.

“Y’know, Alby,” he whispered, so the teacher didn’t notice. “You’re awfully too much into this Little Red Riding Hood thing.”

Alby’s face became guarded immediately, as if someone turned a page of a book for how sudden the change was. Thomas knew he hit the jackpot right away.

“Are you scared of the Big Bad Wolf by any chance?” he continued calmly. “The one in the woods, waiting for his Red to come?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Alby gritted through his teeth angrily and turned back to the board, his shoulders tense and whole posture screaming in defence. Thomas snorted at the absurdity of the situation and ignored how Teresa kept on pulling on his sleeve, demanding an answer.

“I should have known it’s you,” the brunet concluded, more to himself than to Alby, but the boy glared back at him anyway. “It was you who came up with that shit in the woods after all.”

“Does it matter?” Alby snapped at him, his posture even more agitated. “It’s taken care of already.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Thomas refused coldly. It actually pissed him off to find out like this – the whole charade, Minho’s freak out – it was all Alby’s fault. And he had the nerve to actually say _it was taken care of_. There was no excuse for this. “You know I’m not the one and the wolf knows it too. So here you go, mate. _Your turn_.”

Alby’s shoulders noticeably dropped and Thomas thought for a little moment that he actually felt sorry for him. But that was gone as quick as it came, because this shit storm just found its creator and Thomas felt it stinging inside of him like a hornet’s swarm. He didn’t really understand the whole Red business that well, but Alby should, he _knew_ because he tried to dodge it somehow. Was he scared? Or maybe just didn’t want such commitment? Thomas wondered what was so terrible about it that he decided to fake it with a random human. All Thomas could see was a lonely wolf that waited for this to happen, and got a clumsy human boy who tore his defences apart instead, who just shoved it back to him ruthlessly and broke him like a record.

It sucked.

***

“What was it about?”

Thomas watched Alby leave right the moment the bell rang, as if his pants were on fire, and he had an urge to go after him and shake some sense into his head. But he knew it would be like talking to a wall - if Alby refused to take the duty before, he definitely wouldn’t now, and forcing him into it sounded bad anyway. Thomas believed the bond should be mutual and both of them should want it to work, somehow, because it felt like a relationship, and Minho actually made it sound that way. Being close, all the _touching_ , like he wanted them both to be as much comfortable as they could without a single flinch. Not being scared, not being ashamed, just co-exist together.

Alby must have had a reason why he tried to get out of it, right? Maybe it was different when you actually were the Red, maybe it felt straining or scary, or too intense. Maybe there was some hidden, terrifying knowledge, like a lore that only the Red knew, and that made Alby to back off.

Maybe Alby knew Minho had been a male wolf (were there even female wolves that came after Red? The First was a female wolf after all, even though it was probably her cub that forged the bond. He would ask Minho, but… now the possibility closed off), and that just made him unwilling to go. Everything was possible, right? Minho had been touchy feely most of the time anyway, so it could turn Alby away from it too.

Even though it sounded terribly closed-minded. But Thomas didn’t know Alby that well; he couldn’t point at him and say _homophobic,_ because there was no proof of it.

“Just a little aftermath of that shit he pulled at me a month ago,” he answered Teresa with a frown once Alby disappeared from his sight. “Serves him right. He _should_ be scared.”

“Okay,” Teresa pulled at him again, this time stronger, and forced him to finally face her way. She had that unhappy expression on her pretty face, something that told Thomas she felt too neglected for today. “Spill the beans. What the heck is going on?”

“It’s… complicated,” he scratched his head. He couldn’t tell her, it sounded weird even to his own ears, and he lived through it. “The main thing is… he tried to put me on his place to get out of a commitment he has.”

“You couldn’t make it vaguer, could you,” she seemed unimpressed. “Is this connected to your constant _running_?”

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“To the woods?” she added with a sigh and Thomas blinked in surprise, staring at her dumbly. “You think I wouldn’t notice _where_ are you going all this time? Tom, I’m not stupid.”

“I know you’re not, just…”

“You do realize woods are dangerous, right?” she crossed her arms on her chest, watching him with a frown. “And that you could get hurt. Not to mention the wolf they saw…”

“I know,” he stopped her quickly. “But it’s fine now, I swear, I won’t go there anymore.”

She stared at him for a while longer, doubtful and unconvinced, and Thomas had to admit he didn’t really give her a proper explanation to change her mind. He probably didn’t give any to himself either.

“So what changed?” she asked after a moment and there was a concern in her voice. “That you won’t go there anymore?”

“Everything changed,” he made a vague hand gesture and let out a long sigh. “The point is… It should have been Alby.”

“But it’s not,” she concluded.

“It’s not.”

“Maybe there was a reason for that?” she suggested, looking the way Alby disappeared to. “Maybe you are better for it and he saw it that way?”

“No, I’m really not,” Thomas grumbled, because _hell_ , he couldn’t just become The Red! It was given by bloodline, it ran in a family, there was no naming of somebody by this title. He had to be born with it, and that sucked. As far as he knew… he wouldn’t even mind being The Red. At least not for Minho. It just felt… right. Probably not as deep as it would be with the right bloodline, but he thought it gave him a deeper meaning of life, something bigger and more important than school and grades. That he was part of something ancient and important.

“It _has_ to be him?” Teresa looked back at him with raised eyebrows. “You can’t do anything else for it, so it’s you?”

“Like what?” he snorted. Transfusion? Yeah, right.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Since you told me nothing of it. I’m just trying to help. But usually there _is_ a way around everything. If you want to do whatever you had been doing, maybe there is another solution.”

He drew a breath to give her a speech, but stopped himself in time.

She was right. Minho _did_ offer him _a bond_. The question was… what kind of bond was it?

***

Days blurred into one for Thomas and it felt so very wrong. With Minho, there was a reason for him to take care about something, something bigger, flashier. Now it got dull and empty and he didn’t know what do with himself. His “house arrest” was practically over, because his mom thought it was unfair to keep him home when there was nothing serious going on.

Thomas thought about grabbing Alby one day and hauling him to the woods, but on the other hand he didn’t know why he should do that in the first place. It wasn’t his business anymore, that’s for sure. And he didn’t know what to expect from Minho either. Maybe he was also a little selfish, because Alby _was_ The Red, so there would be the rightful place for him. And Minho wouldn’t need Thomas anymore. For some unexplained reason he didn’t want to see it, nor help it anyhow.

Alby knew there was a wolf waiting for him there. It was his choice to come or not. One part of Thomas hoped he wouldn’t go, and he despised himself for it. He knew Minho wanted the bond. He was aware it was given by an ancient oath. And yet he couldn’t bring himself over the fact it wouldn’t be _him_ anymore.

He hadn’t been there for a week already, nor heard from Minho or seen him around. It was like the wolf didn’t even exist anymore – maybe he already left the woods in search for his _true_ Red. It stung him a lot, it made him mad, and it made him cowardly as well. He _wanted_ to go there, he _craved_ to talk to him again, to ask what exactly happened and what _bond_ he wanted to create, and this pitiful small part of him was already shouting _yes, yes, yes, I want the bond, I want it_. His brain was absolutely flooded with this stuff, the inner fighting with the rationality and selfish wish to be part of this ancient promise, even though he didn’t actually belong there.

When he lay in his bed that night and stared into the ceiling, he realized there had been lots of confusion, partly fear, but mainly one emotion that made him ugly and horrid.

For how much he despised Alby for what he had done, he actually _envied_ him he had the chance. He _envied_ him he was the Red, that he _knew_ everything about the bond, about the legend, about the lore. That he didn’t need to ask and gape like an idiot when he got told, that he lived through it without pounding heart and disbelief, and then maybe even awe and excitement. It was _normal_ for him.

It was _more_ for Thomas.

Maybe Teresa was right. Maybe there was another solution – maybe Minho actually wanted Thomas there, and not anyone else who actually had been the Red. Maybe he decided…

“Or maybe I’m a complete moron,” he mumbled and tossed around unhappily, his bed creaking under him. He was kicking around and putting his head to the sand for almost another week now, but his patience finally snapped. He decided to pay one more final visit in the woods, to have some aftermath.

He didn’t know what he was scared of the most of – the fact he would find Minho there, or that he would not.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Guys! I'm so awed, but there is this amazing thing from rsprodz for The Red!  
> Check it here: http://rsprodz.tumblr.com/post/112332765326/just-a-short-little-trailer-well-more-like-a#notes
> 
> Also, this chapter is very "what if" and "maybe", sorry for the lack of action QQ But! At least another thing got revealed :)  
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! You're awesome <3


	10. Minho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?” Minho’s eyes widened comically, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Bite you?”  
> “Well, yea… make me one of you?” Thomas shrugged and tried to play it nonchalantly, but had a bad feeling it didn’t look that way at all. “I’ve seen enough of Teen Wolf to know the drill, you know.”  
> “Teen wolf?” Minho stared at him, dumbfounded. “Biting you? Are you nuts? Why would I ever want to hurt you? Not to mention… you apparently think of me like I’m something what I’m not.”  
> “A werewolf?” Thomas raised an eyebrow and Minho rolled his eyes.

The walk in the woods was like taking a familiar trip to a favourite place he visited so many times before, only with a wholesomely different dreadful feeling of a possible rejection. And if not rejection, maybe there was something worse waiting for him there – maybe Minho was angry, maybe he was gone or maybe he really wanted to make him one of them. Such solution wasn’t in Thomas’ top five – hell, it wasn’t even in his top hundred.

The longer he walked, the heavier his feet seemed to be; as if it refused to make another step forward in fear he felt probably only once on this way before. It was bizarre to be scared now, after so many days of carefree stopovers that never ended awful enough to let turn him away from it.

This… was different. He didn’t know what he was going to find and that uncertainty was lingering heavily in the air wherever he moved.

He arrived an hour later, something that normally took him less than 20 minutes, and the hut still stood on its place, which was a good sign. He let out a breath he didn’t notice he was holding and approached it slowly. He didn’t feel any warmth coming from there, but he refused to let it get to him – Minho usually lit up the fireplace only when he knew Thomas was coming over, so it didn’t come as a surprise that the hut was as cold as it was outside when he entered, and also very empty. Thomas sighed in disappointment and looked around. It felt so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time, this place. It had been what, almost two weeks?

Did Minho hear him coming here? Did he smell him? Did he run and hide? Was he even still in this forest? What if he left?

“Minho…?” he tried in small voice, but nothing came. The lighter was lying on the ledge of the fireplace, as it always did, so Thomas grabbed it, threw some chunks of wood to ashes of an old fire and ignited small chips. He wanted to be optimistic and consider this small thing he left here as a good sign, even though it probably meant nothing – and if Minho left, a lighter wouldn’t make much difference, would it.

The fire caught surprisingly fast – he probably got better at it – and in few minutes the hut got warmer and more welcoming. Thomas sat down in front of the fire for a while, absentmindedly staring at dancing flames and when he felt he was nodding off, he shifted to the “bed” without second thought. He fell asleep in a minute.

He dreamed of falling into something really, really warm and it woke him up suddenly with a full body jerk, disoriented and a little out of breath. His pillow moved with him and it took him several seconds before he realized it was too fluffy for a pillow, and also too warm and growly.

“Minho?” he addressed the black wolf calmly and the beast huffed in response, but otherwise didn’t move. Thomas was basically lying atop of his back, surrounded by the warmth of his fur, and it was strange, really, like falling into a pattern, but feeling strained about it.

“Can we talk?” he tried, trying to sound pacifying and not like he was attacking him. That was the last thing he would want to anyway, and judging from the strange tenseness radiating from Minho’s wolf body it would only make him bolt out of the door again.

“Or I can talk. It’s fine,” he took a deep breath and turned around, resting against Minho on his back. “I mean… ugh. I’m sorry. For what happen. And I’m really sorry I’m not your Red… I would like to be, of course, if I was. It would be cool, yeah? But I’m not. So… I’m sorry.”

There was a notable change in the sudden movement and Thomas realized he wasn’t resting on a fluffy pillow anymore, but on a hot, bare skin of a person.

“You’d like to be?” Minho’s voice rasped as if he hadn’t been using it at all, or maybe too much, and Thomas stiffened. That was easier than he thought, eh? His heart did a double-take on it, but he forced himself to calm down.

“Well… yeah?” he tried and then peeked to the side, seeing a bare leg of the owner of the place and groaned. “Oh man, again?”

He didn’t really get an answer right away, because Minho decided to flip him over and crowd him with his _goddamn naked_ body, so he could dive his face to the brunet’s neck again, where he inhaled deeply.

“You’ve wanted to talk,” he mumbled from there and Thomas’ eyebrows twitched.

“You’re doing it again, Minho.”

“I’m not doing anything,” the wolf argued, and if there wasn’t super faked innocence, Thomas would have to return his card of a master _I didn’t do it_ immediately.

“You’re all over me again,” he argued back and Minho barked a laugh. It shook his whole body and made a pleasant rumbling sound in his chest, and Thomas felt his face burning up, because for fuck’s sake, Minho was lying atop of him fully _naked_!

“I can’t help it,” Minho whispered to his skin, and, of course, didn’t budge an inch. Stubborn dog. There were heat waves coming off him, like lying under a burning sun, but even though Thomas body was chilled and breaking in cold sweat.

“Well, talk then,” he croaked, clutching the fur under him as if it could help him somehow. “Why? And what happened before too. I want to know.”

When no response came and Minho just kept stubbornly quiet and _there,_ the brunet tugged at his hair demandingly and Minho finally rose from his neck and looked him in the eye.

“I got scared when you said you’re not Red,” he mumbled apologetically after a moment. His pupils were dilated end eyes intense. “That there is… nothing. To bind us together.”

“That’s a lame reason,” Thomas uttered, but he had to muster all his courage for this to say. He could hardly breathe from the intensity, and nothing was even happening. “You don’t need to be committed to someone by blood or destiny to be around them, Jesus. I told you we are friends.”

“And I told you we are not!” Minho snapped at him, suddenly angry and harsh, and Thomas felt his body tensing and mind closing off like a curtain, offended and hurt.

Not friends at all? Just because he wasn’t The Red? Was he for real?

“Then fuck off, damn you!” he bit out and started to wriggle to get him off, but Minho gripped him tight and sank his head back between Thomas’ shoulder and neck to still him. It only made him to fight more, his body spasming to get out of the confinement, but of course the wolf had a massive strength going on there and it was all for nothing.

“Let me… let me explain. Please,” Minho pleaded desperately, and there was something vulnerable in his voice, something painful that made Thomas cease any movement and just lie there, gritting his teeth, angry and disappointed.

“Fine,” he growled and at least tried to get him off his neck, but didn’t win there either. Minho nodded though and after several more seconds he actually raised his head again. His expression was… ashamed maybe. His eyes kept on darting around, and if he was sitting somewhere, Thomas could imagine him fidgeting like a school girl.  

“I’ve never… I’ve always been alone,” the wolf started nervously. “Every wolf knows about the Red, about the… the legend, the pact. Every wolf wants to have his Red beside him. It’s like… a distant calling. Longing from the beast. Every wolf is drawn to the Red.”

“But that means you have to recognize the Red,” Thomas objected with a frown. “But you didn’t.”

“Yes. I… thought I did,” Minho mumbled, his eyes finally settling back on Thomas, and it was probably worse now, because he was really _watching_ , analysing, wondering, and it made Thomas nervous as hell.

“At first I was confused that nothing came to me… when I met you,” Minho continued, his eyes slowly mapping Thomas’ face as if he saw him for the first time and wanted to remember every curve. “But after a while it started to feel good, like you belong, like I belong… that we are… the pack. I thought that it’s what the legend was talking about.”

“You thought?” Thomas repeated in confusion and Minho slowly released his grip on the brunet’s arms. Thomas was pretty sure he was going to have bruises there again, damn that guy. He didn’t even know how to control himself, did he.

“I didn’t know… no one ever told me how it should feel,” the wolf grumbled, suddenly very displeased. “I know it from the legend, but that’s all fancy and pompous, no real emotion there, just  load of bullshit. And for every wolf… I think it’s different for an individual.”

“So you freaked out because we’re not a pack,” the brunet stated, a little doubtful. “So what did you want to do? Bite me?”

“What?” Minho’s eyes widened comically, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “ _Bite you_?”

“Well, yea… make me one of you?” Thomas shrugged and tried to play it nonchalantly, but had a bad feeling it didn’t look that way at all. “I’ve seen enough of Teen Wolf to know the drill, you know.”

“Teen wolf?” Minho stared at him, dumbfounded. “Biting you? Are you nuts? Why would I ever want to hurt you? Not to mention… you apparently think of me like I’m something what I’m not.”

“A werewolf?” Thomas raised an eyebrow and Minho rolled his eyes.

“That I’m not.”

“Are you kidding?” Thomas snorted and gestured as much as Minho gave him space for. “You can change into a fucking wolf!”

“Yeah,” Minho shrugged – and hell, he suddenly seemed so relaxed! “A wolf. That’s what I am.”

“You’re a human!” Thomas pointed out furiously. “A werewolf, because they change-,“

“Into some wolf hybrids during the full moon?” Minho gave him an unimpressed look and that shut Thomas up. “I heard about that. Weird lore.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” the brunet grumbled. “So weird.”

Minho actually chuckled, that damn guy, and Thomas immediately sobered from the situation and pushed into him again, feeling him tense under his hands.

“So what,” he demanded unhappily. “What did you want from me? If not turning me.”

“Turning you,” Minho repeated and let out a long, defeated sigh. “Now I wish I could gather my thoughts at your place that night before I leashed out like that… I just panicked and grew desperate. But even though… I knew I need your consent first. You don’t even know how lucky you are that I did.”

“ _Lucky_ ,” Thomas spitted out. “You scared the shit out of me, you idiot!”

“Yeah, I know,” Minho hid his face back on his favourite place – Thomas’ neck – and rubbed his nose there insistently. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, fine. You didn’t want to bite me and weren’t asking me about letting you to do that,” Thomas gave up any other attempt to get him off his body and just stared stubbornly into the ceiling. Still full of spider webs. “So what did you want to do?”

“Take you,” came a response and Thomas stupidly asked _where_ before it struck him. Minho snorted at that reaction and Thomas felt a deep, hot blush creeping to his face like a vengeance.

“H-how would that help you with a b-bond?” he stuttered when Minho raised his head again to watch him a bit too intently, and really, it didn’t help him a bit – if the floor could swallow him now, that would be perfect, thank you. _Did he really suggest… was he really… really?_

“It would forge a new bond,” the wolf answered with a small smile tugging at his lips. It gave him a predatory look, like a hunter watching its prey, and it scared Thomas as much as it did weird things to his belly. “A mate bond. Partnership.”

“Like… lovers?” Thomas piped awkwardly and Minho only grinned – a satisfied expression that really didn’t made Thomas feel any better about this. But then Minho leaned down and didn’t aim for Thomas’ neck anymore, and the boy panicked.

“How about the Red?!” he squealed in the last moment and Minho stopped dead, narrowing his eyes dangerously.

“There is no Red,” he growled, and it was a deep, threatening sound that made Thomas’ hair stood up.

“There is,” he held the conversation stubbornly and Minho growled again, this time definitely like an animal and Thomas wondered if he was about to change. He desperately tried not to sound like he was scared, and attempted to make the conversation worth the time at least – like it or not, it _was_ an issue and Minho should know about it.

“At first I thought it was just a joke, but Alby did it on purpose, because he knew you’re here, waiting for him,” he quickly added, talking maybe a bit too fast. “He is the Red, Minho. He is here.”

Suddenly the weight disappeared and Minho sat upright, scowling. He actually looked like he was ready to kill somebody with that look and it made Thomas wonder if he really did the right thing – for both of them.

“Are you sure?” the wolf stared at Thomas, and there was darkness in his eyes, consuming and dangerous. “Are you _sure_ he is the one?”

“Ninety percent?” the brunet gulped. “He didn’t really… told me _yes_ , but he…”

The anger intensified and Thomas quickly nodded, ashamed to giving up so fast and not even attempting to protect the other boy. But this was really scary – not like _getting eaten soon_ scary, just… so intense.

“He didn’t come,” the wolf barked out angrily. “It’s his commitment, but he didn’t come!”

“I think he is just afraid,” Thomas said shakily and tried to sit up too, but Minho’s hand pushed him back firmly, maybe with too much force, and Thomas landed back with an _oof_.

“I don’t care about his feelings, this is above emotions,” Minho snarled, his touch searing. “He didn’t come to me. He didn’t _tell me_. He broke the pact and tried to fake it with another human. Even that he knew… he _knew._ ”

Thomas wriggled, but it had no use, so he stayed put and gritted his teeth. He apparently unleashed something very, very bad on the world – because he didn’t even know what could happen when the pact gets broken. What could the wolf do? Was there some ancient law that allowed him to hurt the Red that betrayed him? Could it even be considered a betrayal?

“I will talk with him. Maybe he will come here?” he offered meekly and Minho’s hand stopped pushing, just rested there.

“I don’t want him here,” he said coldly, and it was like a cut that ended the conversation. “ _I want you_.”

Thomas forgot how to breathe for a second and all he could do was to stare. Minho was looking back at him and _hell,_ he wasn’t joking. He was deadly serious; his eyes so dark Thomas got almost lost in them, and where did his life lead to? He came here with apology maybe, or at least demanding answers, and now there was _this_?

He bit his lower lip and his breath hitched when Minho’s hand started unbuttoning his jacket with confident moves. There was no hesitation in his movement, just a clear intent and Thomas’ mind reeled like crazy, his body shaking with _something_ he couldn’t even name properly. Was it fear? Was it arousal? Or something that was mashed together?

He just didn’t _know_.

“Minho…” he whispered, uncertain, and his voice trembled a little. “I’m not really sure about this.”

Jacket became loose and Minho lowered himself back atop of the boy. It was smooth and sure and Thomas suddenly noticed everything about the man – his messy hair was a little longer than when he met him, how it was falling to his eyes, how dark and long eyelashes he had – he could easily count them if he wanted to – and if his eyes hadn’t locked on Minho’s lips.

“Then you should leave now,” Minho hissed, and it sounded like he was literally holding himself back by the power of his sheer will. “Because if you don’t, I won’t care about you not being sure. If you stay, I’ll take you. If you say yes, I’ll bind us together.”

Thomas reflexively pushed with all his strength and Minho came easily off him with dark expression on his face. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. He really just said he would… that this would be a thing? Between them? For real? Thomas couldn’t deny it was an overwhelming thought, and he wasn’t sure if it scared him or excited him.

“Then no,” he said a bit without breath, his lungs refusing to cooperate. “I’ll… I’ll think about it. Let me think about it at least, yeah?”

Minho only growled in response and Thomas gulped loudly. It really didn’t look good, did it.

“Minho…” he started, uncertain and the man just averted his eyes from him, his shoulders tense and his pose all defensive.

“Leave, Thomas. Now. Or I won’t let you.”

Thomas did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> My god, this chapter took so long, asdfjdfjdkf.  
> I'm sorry, it's sort of dialogue-ish, but hopefully moved the story a bit forward :) I'm a little anxious about this piece though, so, if you find time and will, send me an opinion? :) I'd love you to death ^.^ (also, how would you react if you were on Thomas' place? Just curious :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


	11. For Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you in love?”  
> Thomas blinked and stopped writing, looking at Teresa questioningly. What a question this early in the morning, really. She was staring at him intently, her blue eyes all shiny and curious, and he didn’t know what exactly could brought such inquiry up. He definitely hadn’t told her anything.  
> “In love?” he repeated, dumbfounded, and she only held her gaze, not wavering in the slightest. “Why?”  
> “You have that vibe,” she answered honestly. “And you keep on spacing out.”

Thomas always thought he was going to find a girl, take her to meet his parents, got patted on his back for good job and live his life like a normal, boring guy. Instead of that he got a wolf who wanted to bone him as soon as possible, tests in school he was passing by sheer luck and sexual revelation of a century coming up to bite him in the ass.

Oh, and also Alby, who was always quickening his pace around him, which was actually hilarious. He even got his share of fun at a chemistry class, randomly spamming words like Red, Wolf and Woods so he could see Alby flinch.

He lost interest in it fairly quickly though – there was just no fun in agitating the boy further when his own problems kept on growing over his head. He was taking his time – a lot of time. It had been already 4 days since the talk and he knew it wasn’t really fair to Minho, but he had to be sure it was what it should be. The internet said wolves mate for life, and if he was going to be bounded to a guy who hates pants and turns furry as he pleases, he really had to be adamant about it and not regret it later on.

Not to mention it could be bullshit too, Minho wasn’t just _a wolf_. He was more, something a little too sinister, a bit scarier, and definitely very mysterious. He could just want to get off for what Thomas knew, calling it _a bond_ just because it sounded fancy. He was still just a guy, right? Living in the woods, alone. He must have had… urges.

Thomas didn’t really understand why was _he_ one of those urges as well, but he decided not to pry. Also refused to fall back into denial, because he liked the guy - he grew on him during all those days together – and after the last meeting he found himself _not opposed_ to the idea, not even minding Minho actually _touching_ him with a different meaning than just a simple contact he kept on reminding Thomas of. Maybe even kissing, trying what his skin would taste like when he licked it, to find hout how firm the body was, how his muscles flexed on his back when he moved, maybe spreading his hands over the lower back while urging him closer and _deeper_ and…

“I’m gay for a wolf guy,” Thomas realized with wide eyes when it hit him where exactly his thoughts had been heading to and groaned, banging his head over the table.

Where did his sanity go?

***

“Are you in love?”

Thomas blinked and stopped writing, looking at Teresa questioningly. What a question this early in the morning, really. She was staring at him intently, her blue eyes all shiny and curious, and he didn’t know what exactly could brought such inquiry up. He definitely hadn’t told her anything.

“In love?” he repeated, dumbfounded, and she only held her gaze, not wavering in the slightest. “Why?”

“You have that vibe,” she answered honestly. “And you keep on spacing out.”

“That means I’m in love?” he raised an eyebrow, not really getting her logic. It could mean he slept badly, or had lots of duties at home, or forgot to turn off the lights. Why did it have to be love?

“Who’s Minho?” she shot another salve and that made him freeze and stop breathing for a second. She immediately smirked in victory and sat a little closer. “So?”

“How do you know…?”

“You kept on mumbling the name during math lesson,” she shrugged, still watching him expectantly. “And since I don’t know anyone of that name… wanna share?”

“No,” he refused immediately, and her expression morphed into disappointment. “No offence.”

“Maybe I can help,” she offered, and there was a little hope again. Thomas shook his head – because really, what would she help with? It was only his decision, and since his teenage mind already had some naughty thoughts in stock, he was pretty sure he was going to give in sooner or later. It should probably scare him a little more for how easy it was – it definitely didn’t mean only starting dating a random person. Not to mention _a guy_ , for the first time in his life as well. But Minho wasn’t _just a guy_. He couldn’t bring him to his parents and say he was dating him and expected them to understand, when Minho would chase cats or walk around naked.

Thomas actually didn’t know what he was getting himself into. He didn’t have a single idea how a bond with a wolf works – how much it matters in a long run. What if they stop liking each other? What if Thomas realizes he can’t do it after all? Would it be easy to just break it off, cancel the bond? Would Minho let him leave?

And how did he even expect Thomas to live through it? He had his parents, he had school, he had so many _normal_ duties, and Minho was just _there_ , running around the woods like a wolf, and didn’t care about the rest of the world.

It screamed _no_ all over, he was aware.

“You look like you need to talk about it,” Teresa piped, successfully pulling him out of his thoughts. “I’m surprised there is no smoke coming out of your ears yet.”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” he mumbled, frowning to himself and ignored rest of her encouragements during the day.

***

“Are you willing to talk?”

He noticed how Alby flinched unhappily, but gulped down all the remarks that kept on fighting up his throat and offered a pacifying smile. The dark-skinned boy watched him doubtfully from his locker, and then let out a defeated sigh.

“What do you want?” he just grumbled and Thomas counted it as a win. He didn’t mean to tease him anymore, as well as he wasn’t keen on asking him to go after Minho – hell, he would probably stop him if he changed his mind now. Who knew what would Minho think if he met The true Red? He would probably decide Thomas wasn’t worth the effort - that would happen. That line of thought was surprising even for Thomas, but it was too late to play dumb. The sole fact he felt jealous over this just put the last notch to the coffin of his heterosexuality.

“I’m not asking you to go after him, so stop glaring,” he said a little grudgingly and it definitely didn’t help Alby to get any more relaxed. He only glared stronger.

“Just wanted to ask few things,” Thomas clarified, clearing his throat. “About wolves.”

“Buy an encyclopaedia,” Alby uttered. He definitely didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it. “Or do I look like one?”

“You’re the Red,” Thomas rolled his eyes, because he really, really didn’t need Alby to get all defensive over a simple question. Or maybe it was a payback, who knew.

“So?”

“So you should know,” the brunet tapped his foot impatiently. “It’s like… genetics, right?”

“Is it.”

“So, about those bonds wolves create…” Thomas tried, his tone probably sounded a bit weird, maybe even strained, because Alby looked at him like he thought he was mad. “For life?”

“Bonds for life?” Alby repeated slowly. “Are you kidding me? Who would want to get bound to _them_? _Willingly?_ ”

“Is it bad?” Thomas blinked, taken back by such blunt refusal, and Alby barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Bad? They are obsessive,” he waved his hand, snorting. “It’s _insane_. Just keep away from them.”

It made Thomas feel very, very nervous, and even more so when the dark-skinned boy just shrugged after and left him to it, standing in front of the lockers as if lightning struck him.

 _Insane_?

“I’d say intense.”

Thomas spun around after an unfamiliar voice, his eyes immediately searching for an owner, until he settled on a blond boy standing several feet away from Thomas. The brunet was sure he never saw him around before – he would definitely remember. It was a strange kid, fair haired and dark eyed, and maybe too thin for his own good – and yet still seemingly strong.

“Excuse me?” he blinked in surprise, because who else said it than this guy? The rest of the people were passing round without hesitation, and he was the only one focusing at Thomas with a small, strange smile on his lips.

“The wolves,” the blond elaborated – his voice was laced with an accent, but Thomas couldn’t put a finger on it. “You were asking about the bonds, yeah?”

“How do you-,”

“I’m a passionate observer of fauna,” the blond offered. “And since I overheard your conversation – yes, wolves mate for life. Since you wanted to know.”

“Oh,” Thomas voiced out only. Of course wolves mated for life, he read that on the internet. But could he apply it on Minho as well? He wasn’t _just_ a wolf, was he?

“Meaning,” the blond approached a bit – was he limping? Thomas wasn’t very sure, the walk had been too short for it, but it seemed that way. “Once they find the right partner. They stay by them until they die.”

“That’s…” Thomas took a deep breath, the uncertainty overruling him again, and the blond smiled as if it was all nice and dandy. It was probably slightly depressing – taking how fleeting human’s affection was.

“Intense,” the boy finished Thomas’ sentence simply. “But then again. They never chose wrong. It’s an instinct.”

“But-,” he didn’t even get to finish the complaint and the blond just waved him off and disappeared down the corridor as if he was never there.

Thomas had a feeling it wasn’t just an ordinary guy, and it stayed with him all the way home.

***

The room was dimmed and warm, so warm Thomas could strip his jacket right the moment he entered, dropping it on the floor haphazardly, while approaching the big pile of fur in the back of the room. He could easily see Minho’s silhouette lying there, and it felt nice, welcoming and satisfying. He snuck to the pile slowly next to the man, and as soon as he snuggled close, Minho turned around and pulled him into tight embrace, breathing him deeply and sighing contently.

“You’ve come,” he whispered and Thomas buried his face into his shoulder. It was the best feeling, comfortable and gentle; he didn’t expect it that way.

“Yep,” he said right after. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“I’m patient,” the wolf drawled and licked Thomas’ neck. It sent shivers down Thomas’ spine, a pleasant vibrations coursed through his body with creeping hotness wherever Minho touched, his fingers slowly traveling over Thomas’ sides and back up to his arms, then lower to his hips. “Have you decided?”

“Mhmm,” Thomas hummed with a small, content smile. “You’re awfully cuddly today.”

“It’s cold outside.”

“That’s why you’re lying here naked?” the boy teased him and felt how Minho smirked against his skin, his hands stilling on Thomas’ waist.

“I’m not naked,” he argued softly. “I have pants.”

“No, you don’t have any pants, Minho,” Thomas snorted, tempted to at least pinch him to his butt as a proof. “Not even imaginary. You’re ass naked in here.”

“Oh, bugger,” Minho laughed and it shook his whole frame and rumbled in his chest. “What a shame. But you’re warm.”

“Is that your reason? I’m warm so you don’t need any pants?” Thomas raised his head, and earned only another lick, then nip and lick again.

“Is this a yes?”

Thomas nodded without hesitation and ran his fingers through Minho’s hair, just to get his hand caught in a firm grip and then suddenly getting flipped over with a red-eyed man atop of him.

“Min-,”

“There is no way back now,” Minho said – and it was a growl, dangerous one that made Thomas stare at him in silent shock, because this wasn’t what he expected it to be. The grip on his wrist started to hurt and then there was a flash of hurt on his neck and blood pounding in his ears, his lungs burning and him screaming, and he jerked away so violently from the snapping jaws of a giant black wolf it made him hurt.

Then darkness surrounded him like a curtain and he realized he was lying on the floor, eyes wide open and staring at his wardrobe. His heart was rabbiting in his chest like crazy, his back ached and his parents were just bursting through the door of his room, asking what happened.

He hadn’t fallen back asleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I'm so sorry it took so long. Lately I'm so tired I can barely do my chores when I get back from work T^T  
> I swear the next chapter will be better and involve Minho again :)  
> (sorry for the stupid nightmare stuff there)


	12. Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever it is, the answer is yes,” Teresa nudged him and he almost dropped the pen. “You’re making me really worried, just by looking at you. Like you kept on thinking about some apocalyptic scenarios, you either pale a lot, or you get flushed.”  
> That fitted.   
> “The answer is yes, huh?” he repeated her formulation and she shrugged, smiling a little.   
> “You keep on thinking about it,” she said calmly. “And it makes you really frustrated. So… isn’t it better if you try it out? Because if there is something positive about it and there are just random negative things that can happen but also didn’t need to… you should go for it.”

Thomas was grateful he wasn’t getting wooed. He was content with keeping it low from himself, and getting dead animals on his doorstep wouldn’t help him to make up his mind at all. So yes, he was happy that Minho actually left him be, that he didn’t press him or urge him to decide.

Well, for what was worth, Thomas already decided, somehow. He didn’t know why exactly he wanted to give it a go, or if it was a good idea (probably not), or if he was going to be what Minho wanted, but his answer was still yes.

He knew it. He was confident.

And yet he couldn’t bring himself to go to the woods to tell the wolf and start whatever the man wanted him to. He thought that this big unknown was probably the main trouble in the situation – because really. What did he know about wolves? Nothing. He could come there, say yes and Minho could jump at him and demand sex. Not that Thomas minded sex, really, sex was all good. With a girl. While he was in lead. Without fangs.

With Minho he was almost 90% sure he wouldn’t lead a shit, maybe just his voice and his own embarrassment. It made him a little afraid, really. He was never with a guy, he never even kissed one before, and suddenly there was somebody who could change into a wolf, and that didn’t want just to try it out, but to bond over it, and _for life_. Thomas even went as far as imagining the first time being absolutely horrible and painful and unpleasant, that _for life_ sounded like a death sentence at that point.

Of course he also imagined it could be pretty awesome, somehow, as much as taking it up in the ass can get (he may or he may not watched gay porn because of it – for science of course – and ended up being scared for life). That he would miraculously like it and the _relationship_ would get nice and cozy – if wolves even knew meaning of that. Maybe for Minho it was something like ownership? Like claiming somebody as his, and that was the peak of what Thomas could get? Of course he wasn’t a type for candles and fancy dinners or flowers, but… there was a highlight to _nice_ things, to _pleasant_ things, not just sex or… who knows what.

Not to mention he really, really didn’t want to have sex right the moment he tells Minho he decided to try it out. But he wasn’t sure if he could expect somebody as desperate as Minho seemed to be to heel and _wait_ a bit more (after all he already waited for _weeks_ now, and that must have gotten frustrating).

All in all, it was probably the possibility of getting pounced the most frightening about this all. Yes, he imagined kissing and touching and maybe a handjob or… you know. Stuff. But the real deal just couldn’t get to his head the good way, it kept on bouncing around like a huge exclamation mark that made weird noises and tried to scare him off.

It was scaring him off successfully, really. Masterfully even.

Not to mention that nightmare he had. It kept on repeating in his head, the moment Minho leashed out and there was blood and sharp fangs burying into his neck – he knew it wasn’t the point, Minho told him there was no _biting_ that would change him, that he wouldn’t _hurt_ him. But who knew what kind of other rituals could this bonding have, right? So doing the whole thing… was it really a good idea?

“Whatever it is, the answer is yes,” Teresa nudged him and he almost dropped the pen. “You’re making me really worried, just by looking at you. Like you kept on thinking about some apocalyptic scenarios, you either pale a lot, or you get flushed.”

_That fitted._

“The answer is yes, huh?” he repeated her formulation and she shrugged, smiling a little.

“You keep on thinking about it,” she said calmly. “And it makes you really frustrated. So… isn’t it better if you try it out? Because if there is something positive about it and there are just random negative things that _can_ happen but also didn’t need to… you should go for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Is this about that Minho person?” she titled her head, watching him expectantly. He always knew Teresa was very intuitive, and her opinion would make him definitely feel better, but telling her about somebody who turns into a wolf… that was too farfetched even for her. She would probably call him a psychiatrist, or maybe police to go search the woods for a drug dealer and a wild wolf running around.

“Yeah, it is about that Minho person,” he mumbled, at least giving her that. “It’s just… different.”

“I can see that,” she chuckled, patting him on his shoulder. “Getting you so worked up for two weeks, man. Must have been some catch you got.”

“I suppose,” Thomas nodded slowly, and it felt a little better, talking it out. Even though just vaguely. “So… even though it can get very intense… you think I should try it?”

“Still not telling me anything more specific?” she tried hopefully, earning a firm no, and sighed. “Yes then. Try it. You can always back out, right? It’s not like it’s forever.”

“Hah,” he let out an involuntary snort and shook his head. Not forever? Well, this probably was.

 _Probably_.

***

He spent an hour at home, pacing around his room, before he decided to stop being a coward and get it done. It took him about 12 minutes to the woods and then another 15 to the hut, even though he tried to walk as slow as possible. His body apparently refused that pace and went faster – he was almost running, but he noticed that _after_ he arrived when he was a little out of breath.

It took him another five minutes of standing there as if he rooted to the ground, before he actually made himself to push to the door and look inside the hut, only to be greeted with an empty space and cold air.

“I don’t know what I’ve expected,” he mumbled, staring into the dark room minutely. Of course that the nice part of his dream remained only that – a dream. Minho hadn’t been waiting for him there, he hadn’t been lazing around just to greet his _mate_ – was it the right word? – like that, with nuzzles and soft kisses and… and… yeah. He was probably just running somewhere, or maybe hunting or whatever.

“What have you expected?”

If anyone asked later, Thomas would deny any claim of him squeaking in surprise when he heard the voice behind him out of blue. He spun around, heart in his throat, and it didn’t really get better when he realized it was Minho behind him, looking at him as if he grew another head. He was clothed – yay! – and looking very dishevelled, like he just had been running and rolling around the woods a lot. There were even leaves in his hair and smudge on his right cheek. He didn’t say anything more, but Thomas noticed the meaningful gleam in his eyes, the tenser posture his body adopted, as if he was ready to bolt away running.

“You, inside the hut?” Thomas decided to answer, his voice came out weaker than he expected.

“Sorry to disappoint,” the Asian uttered, and yes, there was an undoubtable coldness in his tone – and Thomas was aware he deserved it. He left him hanging for two weeks at least, of course he was mad that Thomas had the nerve to come and demand him at the spot like an obedient dog.

“You didn’t,” Thomas said back, or better piped out. He had to clear his throat to get is voice to come back to normal and not sounding like a premature elementary. “Disappoint I mean. You didn’t.”

Minho’s eyes raked over Thomas’ features quickly, as if he was checking – for a lie maybe? Or his condition? He couldn’t really say.

“What do you want?” he asked after another beat of silence and Thomas’ breath hitched a little at that. _Yeah, definitely mad. Very much so._

He had to take a deep breath, calming down somehow, even though his heart demanded to get out of his chest to run away somewhere, maybe to hide, who knew. He was aware he had been super slow, maybe also very unfair while not letting Minho know for so long, and also selfish for taking that time and then just strutting here as if nothing happened. He told this guy he would _think about it_ , and he left him alone while it was important. A happy, warm greeting would come as weird even to him, he concluded.

And yet, he wanted him to understand. He _needed_ that time. He had to think about everything, he had to freak out first, and then he had to come in terms with the new situation. Yes, he was slow, but he hoped it was worth it.

“You,” he replied honestly when he was sure his vocal chords wouldn’t betray him mid-word. He knew it was important – an answer Minho needed – and it made him relieved somehow. Anticipating more, but a heavy weight lifted from his chest.

Minho’s expression didn’t change though. He kept on staring and then snorted as if it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard.

“Me?” he said. “And that took you two fucking weeks to realize?”

Thomas blinked, not expecting such harsh tone, and frowned.

“Yes,” he just bit out. “I needed that time, thank you very much!”

“ _I needed that time_ ,” Minho parroted him and snarled. “And I need to know you’re alright! Two fucking weeks, you idiot, do you even realize what it meant to me not knowing if you didn’t jump off a cliff or something?!”

“Why the fuck would I even do that!” Thomas barked back and his body moved forward, probably threateningly, because he noticed how Minho’s expression morphed into a surprise for a moment, before changing back to an angry one.

“How am I supposed to know,” he growled at the brunet, his shoulders tense and hands balled into fists. “You just fucking left me for _two weeks_!”

“I’m here _now_!” Thomas stepped forward again with more vehemence, agitated and ready to fight if needed to, and Minho took a step forward as well.

“Yes, you are!” the wolf shot back at him and suddenly there was an unforgiving surface against Thomas’ back how he hit the wall, and even more unforgiving Minho pressing him into it, but Thomas didn’t care because his lips were preoccupied and it was so fucking _satisfying_.

Minho was an aggressive kisser – that much Thomas had been expecting. He was dominating, hungry and overpowering, his kisses burned Thomas down – they enslaved him somehow as well, just taking and giving in equal portions, but goddamn, he was _good_. It was different than kissing a girl, _naturally_ , but a lot more different than Thomas though it would be. Not just the kiss itself, but the whole feeling of the situation – how he pressed into Thomas, not relenting, how his hand kept Thomas in line while resting on the side of his neck and partially his cheek, his thumb caressing, surprisingly gently there,  how the other hand sneaked to Thomas’ waist and held on. His whole body radiated strength and power, and Thomas could _feel_ the muscles shuffling under his palm that rested on Minho’s back, urging him closer.

It was hot and never-ending, small moans had been filling the air when Minho pulled them slightly apart to get some air and then dived back in, as if he wanted to prove something – and hell, maybe he did. Maybe Thomas needed to be proved that things were going to change now, and he just gave his consent without actually saying it.

He didn’t mind. The fear was there, it was still palpable, but the burning need overpowered it and locked it somewhere deep down in his heart, while he licked into Minho’s mouth stubbornly and never wanted it to end.

“Yes?” Minho suddenly whispered, brushing their lips together, and Thomas whimpered and reached out to get him back again, only to be avoided teasingly. “ _Yes_?”

The one word Minho repeated resonated within him, and he wondered why he needed to hear it when it was so obvious. He vehemently nodded anyway, his fingers digging into Minho’s skin, trying to move him forward, until he realized he wouldn’t succeed unless he voiced it aloud as well.

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Yay, another chapter in time! xD So... hopefully things moved to the right direction :) What do you think?


	13. Can't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thomas,” Minho rumbled, and it was absolutely disarming, making the brunet gasp a little at the tone.  
> “Yeah?” he breathed out weakly and stared back up into the dark eyes, his body shivering slightly – but it wasn’t unpleasant, just… nervous.   
> “I’m going to bite you now.”  
> That sobered him up fast, his eyes widened, breath hitched.  
> “W-what-!” he squeaked out, throat tight he could barely breathe. “You promised you wouldn’t-! Minho!”

“Are you kidding me?! Oh my god.”

Thomas could only wail and maybe kick a little, but it was no use when Minho suddenly picked him up and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was so sudden from the kissing against the wall that Thomas could barely comprehend what the hell happened and why was he carried to the hut like a war trophy single handed. Minho didn’t bother with explaining, he just brought him inside, closing the door behind them with a nudge of his foot, and then dropped Thomas on the pile – not very gently, Thomas would add if he wasn’t so shocked – while remaining standing in front of it.

“Stay there,” the Asian said uncompromisingly, his voice ruff and low, and Thomas did what he was told – mainly because he really didn’t get what just happened. Minho watched him for a while longer, as if he was drinking him in, and then turned around and crouched in front of the fireplace with a clear intent to ignite the logs still lying in it.

Well, additional warmth was good for Thomas, so he didn’t say anything against it and just flipped over on his stomach and made himself comfortable in the pile of furs around him, watching the wolf with half-lidded eyes. He was definitely faster with the fire making, he must have admitted. It was a question of a minute or two before the flames started licking the logs hungrily and the room began to warm up pleasantly. It was even shorter before Minho was back at him, crawling to the pile like a predator on hunt and Thomas felt his stomach churning and heart beating like crazy again.

He kept quiet, not saying anything against Minho seizing him by his hips and pulling him lower, then positioning himself atop of him, his face a mask of pure concentration. It was strangely intense, even though nothing was happening, and he found himself holding his breath, just looking up.

“Thomas,” Minho rumbled, and it was absolutely disarming, making the brunet gasp a little at the tone.

“Yeah?” he breathed out weakly and stared back up into the dark eyes, his body shivering slightly – but it wasn’t unpleasant, just… nervous.

“I’m going to bite you now.”

That sobered him up fast, his eyes widened, breath hitched.

“W-what-!” he squeaked out, throat tight he could barely breathe. “You promised you wouldn’t-! Minho!”

But Minho leaned down, his lips parted and then there was the contact on Thomas’ neck and he wanted to scream and fight and run away, everything rushed back to him – the fear, the blood, the pain that was going to occur, the terror - until he felt Minho blew air over his skin and it made the most ridiculous farting sound ever, and then the wolf started to laugh like crazy, his body shaking with it and just flopped over Thomas like a deadweight.

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” he hollered with laughter, his whole body spasming.

“You fucking idiot!” Thomas wriggled, trying to push him off. “You gave me a heart-attack, asshat!”

Naturally Minho hadn’t budge and inch, but the laughter somewhat subsided into soft chuckles and Thomas heard like he let out a sigh after.

“Good,” he just said. “Now we are even.”

“I haven’t threatened you with a bite,” Thomas hissed, trying to drag him up by pulling at his hair, but Minho was stubborn and didn’t care.

“As if your bite would even hurt,” the Asian snorted and _finally_ raised his head up, looking Thomas dead in the eye. “You really have no idea, do you.”

“About your asshattery? Now I do,” the brunet uttered, stubbornly looking away from the dark haired man. It was the only thing he could do anyway, his whole body was pinned under him without a chance to move.

“You’re the slowest person in the world,” Minho’s voice sounded amused. “Even photosynthesis would be faster than you.”

“Of course, Professor Know-It-All,” Thomas bit out. Like he cared, stupid ass wolf. He scared him to death. What he hadn’t expected was a nibble on his neck, making him yelp and Minho snicker.

“Now you’re bitten,” the wolf informed him smugly. “Is it enough for you, or do I need to draw blood so you stop obsessing about it?”

“I’m not obsessing about it!” Thomas shot back, just to be silenced with another nibble to his chin, making him wide eyed again.

“I can’t bind us if you’re scared of me,” Minho whispered to his lips lowly. “But I really want to. So _please_ , can you just let it go?”

“Conceal, don’t feel?”

“What?” Minho blinked and it was Thomas’ turn to chuckle and then shake his head.

“Nothin’. I’m not scared you’re going to hurt me,” he fished his hands from under the Asian, gently resting them on his waist. It wasn’t entirely a lie – he knew Minho wouldn’t hurt him, at least not intentionally. Not in a bad way. It wasn’t exactly a truth either though, because yes, he was scared of what the binding could mean.

Minho watched him quietly for a moment and then nodded. He seemed strangely hesitant, and Thomas understood somehow – if it meant a lot to wolfs, it must have been a big thing to go for right now. And Thomas wasn’t a wolf, and neither was he The Red, so with a human it probably… wasn’t as easy to handle.

“So... what do I need to do?” he inquired, fidgeting nervously. “Because I have no idea, really. Zero idea. Just so you know. So… what?”

“First of all,” Minho took a deep breath. “Stop talking.”

Thomas shut up. It made the wolf smirk at him, and that was really, really low. He kept on making fun of him, that cheeky brat.

“Second of all, kiss me,” Minho continued easily and Thomas blinked few times, his eyes slowly sliding down to Minho’s lips. He had nice lips, really. Thomas liked them, even though he would never say it out loud – but he intended to at least prove it.

“Staring doesn’t count,” Minho let out a suffering sigh and Thomas grumbled before reaching out as much as the body above him allowed it, and capturing his lips with his own. Minho hummed in agreement and kissed back, his body pressing Thomas further into the furs, and it felt _safe_.

“That’s right,” he heard Minho whisper when they parted for a second and his voice was but a rumble, deep and rich, and Thomas realized he automatically hooked his legs against Minho’s hips at some point, and rocked into him steadily without a single flinch, or even a notice. The sudden proximity was endearing somehow, pleasant, and Thomas didn’t mind it at all – his hands wandered over the broad back and strong arms, then back up to Minho’s neck, just to get lost in his hair, and he kept on kissing and exploring, his body gladly receiving the pressure of his companion atop of him, and where it wasn’t enough he helped it, inching closer by himself, reaching up and closing the gap.

There was no softness of the girl’s body – Minho was anything but soft. He was strong and unrelenting, his body like a brick wall that couldn’t be mistaken for the other gender even if somebody had really wild imagination, and Thomas found himself not minding it as much as he thought he would. The kisses were gentle and not pressuring, and maybe it helped a lot to relax, to find a comfortable zone that made them both easily attuned to the other, where touches came on easy and gentle, not rushed or forceful.

Well, unless you were Minho and decided to suddenly stop and flip Thomas on his stomach like he weighted nothing, successfully breaking the mood. Thomas remained frozen for a moment, absolutely caught off guard, until Minho was back atop of him, mouthing at his neck hotly, sending shivers down his spine, and his hands started pawing on Thomas’ belt.

“Minho-,”

“Shh,” the wolf hissed into his ear, pressing him down. “Just relax.”

The belt successfully slid out of the belt loops without Thomas even comprehending how the heck it could happen this easily, and then Minho was pulling at his pants, dragging them down impatiently – and hell, that was it, wasn’t it. That was the sex part, the painful part, and Thomas found himself fighting back like a caged animal, pushing the attacker away blindly until his hands got caught in a firm grip and pulled above his head, pinning him down unmercifully.

“Thomas!” Minho barked out, his voice laced with anger. “The fuck, what are you doing?”

“I don’t want this,” Thomas wriggled around, but it was no use, Minho was holding him down like a pro, and it felt _wrong_. He felt the panic swelling inside of his chest, slowly creeping down to his limbs, paralyzing his body. “I can’t do it, I _can’t do it_!”

The silence fell right after and it made him take a deep, shuddering breath and finally cracking his eyes open again, looking up to his companion with a cringe, expecting literally everything. His heart was beating like crazy, his head was buzzing and throat tightening, and he couldn’t even say why. Was it a fear? It didn’t seem like it.

Minho looking like the world just ended wasn’t really it though. He didn’t say anything, he just sat above Thomas like a statue, and his face was so _sad_ it almost broke the brunet’s heart.

“You said yes,” Minho just mumbled tiredly, easing away the grip.

“To the b-bond,” Thomas pointed out, his voice refusing to cooperate properly and Minho let out a long, suffering sigh.

“So what changed your mind?” the wolf asked and Thomas could hear the strange hurt in his voice, and it wasn’t what he had wanted to cause him. “Why don’t you want it anymore?”

Thomas blinked and then shook his head vehemently.

“I want the bond!” he claimed and his voice croaked unpleasantly. Minho frowned and his eyes were piercing and confused at the same time, searching for answers.

“You just said you don’t want it,” he pointed out a little growly and Thomas shook his head again, tugging his hands out of Minho’s grip, and it came off easily with Minho shuffling above him in a dark mood.

“Sex!” Thomas hollered, trying to pull his pants up again from that little part that was dragged down. “I can’t just… have sex like… this.”

Minho stared and his jaw dropped a little, like he was literally shocked of what he just heard, and Thomas wondered if it really sounded as idiotic as he thought. It probably did.

“Sex?” the wolf repeated after a moment, looking a little lost.

“Yes, you tart, _sex_ ,” Thomas rolled his eyes, his heart finally slowing down a little. “I’ve never…”

“Oh,” Minho let out and _no no no, that was all wrong, geez._

“I’ve had sex already!” Thomas quickly shot out, but Minho’s expression didn’t really change.

He just went _umm_ and it sounded a lot like ironic _suuuuure_ that Thomas wanted to facepalm.

“With _girls_ ,” he clarified with a groan and it was weird, because Minho looked him up and down like he saw him for a first time and then raised an eyebrow as if he was questioning him.

“You’re _not_ a girl,” Thomas pointed out grudgingly, and yes, it wasn’t his strongest argument in this, nor the brightest.

“An excellent observation,” the wolf deadpanned and then as if something occurred to him, his shoulders dropped and he let go of Thomas completely. The lack of his warmth hit the brunet like a cold wave and he shivered involuntarily and automatically reached out to stop his counterpart from leaving.

“Too bad I’m not a gal,” Minho shrugged, avoiding another contact, and Thomas whimpered at the loss. “Worth a shot though.”

“Worth a shot?” the brunet repeated, blinking rapidly.

“I got forceful, my bad,” Minho said, but his voice sounded strained, like he kept himself in line just barely. “If you don’t want to bond, I understand. I can’t do it without it though, so if you just go home now, it would help us both.”

Thomas felt his heart speeding up again, this time almost painfully, and it pounded in his head so much that the pressure was almost unbearable. Minho was basically telling him to get the fuck out? How did this even happen?

“No,” he refused shakily. “It took me so much time to get here, I’m _not_ leaving again.”

“This is not a game, Thomas,” Minho shot him a glare and there was real anger burning in his eyes. “I get you don’t understand a fuck about this as a human, but I _can’t_ do this without the bond!”

“And I’m telling you I _want_ the bond!” Thomas shot back, all ruffled and tired of arguing over a stupid misunderstanding, and Minho stood up abruptly and started pacing around like he just couldn’t stand it anymore.

“You said you don’t!” he accused the brunet unhappily and Thomas couldn’t stop another groan rising up.

“Sex! I don’t want sex!” he spitted out impatiently and it made the Asian stop walking altogether. He stared for a long while, completely speechless and wide eyed, and then he hung his head down and let out a sound that could be called a howl if you had a good imagination.

“You don’t want sex,” he repeated and Thomas felt like in a Deja vue, fumbling over it again and again.

“I… don’t want it now,” he still answered though, fidgety, when Minho looked back up, right at him. It was a little embarrassing, Thomas thought. Like explaining bees and birds to a kid.

“But you want the bond,” the wolf continued and Thomas thought only a sheet of paper and a pen he could tick those points off with was missing.

“Yes,” he agreed simply, because _yes_ , of course he fucking wanted it, that’s why he came here. But having sex in the middle of the woods sounded like from a cheap novel and Thomas wasn’t very experimental type – even though he seriously had no idea if wolves even understood the concept of _dating_.

“Why are you so fucking complicated?” Minho sighed, but it wasn’t as desperate as before, and Thomas took it as a good thing.

“Is it… customary? For the… bonding?” he tried and the wolf took a deep breath and shook his head slowly.

“No,” he mumbled, looking away. “I just wanted to… feel a bit more. Of you.”

It made Thomas flush all over and he patted the spot next to him for the wolf to return to his side, and was pleasantly surprised when Minho took the place immediately, even though more tentatively now. He didn’t attempt any contact though, so Thomas reached out and touched his shoulders, slowly sliding up to lock his hands behind his neck, pulling himself closer.

“So… one more time,” he whispered to Minho’s ear. “I _want_ this. Alright?”

“I want _you_ ,” Minho muttered back and it made Thomas’ breath hitch and skin tingle.

How did the gay porn go again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I hope it's not too confusing.. I was writing it for three days unconsistently, mostly too tired to actually continue T^T


	14. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Boyo,” he addressed Thomas with a sigh. “There is either want or don’t want. Nothing in between, you understand? If it hurts, ya don’t want it.”  
> “I want it!” Thomas barked out, his hands balled to fists, and the blond just gave him an unimpressed look.   
> “You can fool yourself like that somehow. But you can’t fool the spirit with pretentious bullshit,” he delivered unmercifully, and it rang painfully in Thomas’ head.

Minho behaved _a lot_. His grip was stronger and his lips kept on mapping Thomas’ skin on his neck, or covered his mouth, but he kept it PG, hands above the waist and his pace slowed down almost shockingly, taking in the previous action. Thomas felt it pleasantly spreading through his system, the heeded calling, the plea that got so thoroughly listened to, and his body relaxed again, almost to the point of being boneless and so, so pliant. When Minho pushed him to the lying position again, he didn’t say a single word, nor he thought about anything negative, and just circled his arms around Minho’s wide shoulders and offered all the skin Minho wanted to touch.

And he apparently really wanted, because he hadn’t relented for a single moment. It was like getting feasted on, but in a good, nice sense, the gentle, exploring one, and his own hands started roaming the broad back as well, and it was like touching fire, something burning and oh-so-exciting. And it felt like he was burning too, like if his heart stopped for a moment to take the whole situation in, like his whole being got eerily quiet and then bloomed again in full force, and it was so bizarre, so alien that Thomas felt like drowning.

“Breathe,” Minho whispered to his ear, and Thomas wanted to tell him that he was indeed breathing, but found himself gasping instead, gulping down the air in panic, and Minho was holding him firmly by his shoulders and staring at him intently like the power of his look could solve everything.

“Thomas, calm down,” he said – no, ordered – and Thomas could tell something was expanding inside of his chest, something what didn’t belong there until recently, and it swelled almost painfully and seared him, and he could hear whimpers coming from his mouth, little weak cries for help. And then there was a touch of Minho’s hand on his forehead, like he was checking, and his face distorted into unhappy grimace.

“I-it hurts-,” Thomas wept, his hands scrambling for something to hold onto, and Minho let out a growl and the pain disappeared without a trace. The air rushed into Thomas’ lungs immediately and he almost choked on it, sputtering and coughing, his body trembling in aftershock.

“What the h-hell-,” he wheezed, attempting to sit up, but Minho held him down with an apparent worry in his dark eyes, so he could barely move.

“The bond,” the wolf said quietly. “It… doesn’t work as it should.”

“What do you mean it d-doesn’t work as it s-should?” the brunet stared up at him with wide, confused eyes, and even though there was no pain left, he still felt weak and somewhat strained. He never sensed anything like that before – it wasn’t a physical pain like you can feel when something pierces your skin. But it wasn’t an inside pain as if your stomach hurts or appendix wants to come out either. It was… deeper, scarier. It was like something was stubbornly trying to find its way deep into Thomas’ _soul_ or whatever you want to call it, to plant itself there, but there was no _space_ for it, no capacity to be able to hold it without crushing something else in progress.

“I don’t know,” Minho mumbled, looking at Thomas with agitation growing in his expression. “I never… bonded before, it…”

“Don’t know h-how to?” That notion scared him a bit, that Minho didn’t really know what he was doing. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but it sounded like a complicated process, and he still had some self-respect left to admit he was definitely _afraid_.

“I know how!” Minho barked and then shut up again, apparently surprised by the power of his own voice as much as Thomas was.

“I know how,” he repeated in a softer voice. “But… with a wolf, and… I never attempted a mate’s bond. I’m sure if I did it slower, this time it would-,”

“No, no, no,” Thomas shook his head vehemently and Minho’s face fell. “Let’s leave it for today, okay? We can… t-try tomorrow. I feel like throwing up right now, I don’t t-think it’s how it should go.”

“No,” Minho admitted grudgingly. “It’s not.”

Thomas let out a long, tired exhale and his heartbeat slowly returned to normal from the panicked pace before. He definitely hadn’t been expecting it would just… creep up on him without warning. He expected an indication, something Minho would have to say, a… _ritual_? Well, that sounded stupid even in his head.

“I thought it would be like… exchanging rings or something,” he mumbled weakly and cracked up a smile. “Like a vow. This was… unexpected.”

“The bonding?” Minho slowly released his shoulder and remained sitting next to him. His posture wasn’t as proud as normally and Thomas was pretty sure it was tough for him as well. He wondered why _nothing_ with them couldn’t go the easy way, just for once.

“No, the wedding, geez,” the brunet rolled his eyes, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. “Yes, smartass, the bonding.”

“It’s not that easy,” Minho replied and there was no smart remark, no bite in his voice. He sounded tired and little sad and Thomas hated it. “It’s more like… attuning to the other. Once you get the proper… the proper…um.”

“I get it,” Thomas assured him lightly. “You just need to be like a one, yeah?”

“In a manner of speaking,” the wolf shrugged, and it definitely worried him, Thomas could tell. The way they _couldn’t_ do it, what exactly it meant? It was his fault? Because he was human and didn’t know what it involved in detail? Or was it Minho’s fault because he was unexperienced? Or were they just… incompatible?

“It probably just needs time,” the wolf offered, and he was openly insecure now, like he was hesitant to even attempt to ask this. For time, for _patience_ , for _trying_. It reminded Thomas of trying to have a baby, and he smirked at the notion and quickly touched Minho’s knee, which was closest to him right now.

“Hey,” he told him softly. “We have all the time in the world, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Minho nodded, and it made his eyes a little clearer and posture less stiff, and Thomas counted it as a win.

***

“Don’t you look fresh and ready to go,” Teresa commented right the moment Thomas sat next to her in class and let out a long, suffering sigh. He felt like shit, his body was heavy and refused to move properly, and he probably was a little feverish as well. But he refused to stay at home with his own thoughts and rather went here, even though it meant Teresa was going to get him for it.

“Yeah, feel kinda sick,” he admitted while he lowered his head on the desk and rested there.

“How did it go?” she pried. “I can’t really say with your state. Did you do it?”

“I… tried to,” he mumbled. “It kinda… didn’t work out.”

“Aw,” she let out and he felt her hand patting his head in comfort. “I’m sorry to hear that. So you… broke up or…?”

“No,” he mumbled. “We will keep trying.”

He definitely wanted to try it again, even though he risked another wave of that weird pain, but it meant a lot – and not just to Minho, but to him too. He stayed around 1 more hour yesterday, just resting with Minho sitting next to him and telling him about the woods and all the distinctive marks (they both tried to avoid the bonding topic, as well as they didn’t attempt any more contact that would lead to something more. Thomas thought it was because Minho would unconsciously attempt to bond with him again, and he tried to protect him that way). Then he went home and fell asleep almost instantly when he dragged his tired body to his bed.

“Trying what?” she blinked in surprise. “Like… dating?”

He admitted it must have been kind of confusing to hear about it this way, but he refused to tell her anyway and just shrugged.

“Kind of,” he only said and sighed again. 

 _Dating._ He couldn’t really say how _dating_ would look with Minho. And if it was even possible to coax him into it without the bond – for some reason he seemed reluctant to do anything while they were still unbounded, not touching properly, even though he reacted strongly the first time they kissed.

“I… don’t understand at all,” she shook her head and apparently gave up. Thomas though it was for the best, because he didn’t really understand either.

***

“And here I thought you’d look a little livelier after our last talk.”

Thomas almost tripped on his way out of school for how fast he turned around after the voice. He earned an amused chuckle and immediately recognized the blond stranger he met before.

“Ah,” he breathed out, gaining some dignity back. “Passionate observer of fauna, right?”

The blond boy smiled from the railing he was perched on like a predator, and looked Thomas over. His dark eyes were piercing and curious, like he was searching for something.

“I can tell the fauna is not treating ya the best way so far,” he noted, nodding to Thomas vaguely, as if he was aiming for a specific point, but Thomas really couldn’t tell which one. “What’s the trouble?”

It was a weird person, Thomas noted. He couldn’t tell if he was one of the wolves, a lettered human, or something else, something more powerful. If talking to him was actually a good idea – he seemed strangely too well informed.

“The bond doesn’t work,” Thomas answered anyway. He _needed_ to tell somebody, even if it was going to sound absolutely crazy and he wouldn’t understand, but he couldn’t keep it all to himself. Of course, he could tell Teresa, but she was pragmatic and definitely didn’t believe in (were)wolves running around, so her opinion would consist of white straitjacket and padded room. This guy at least seemed like he _knew_ something, whatever it was.

What he earned was a blank stare though. The blond just watched him with a raised eyebrow as if Thomas grew another head, and maybe he was wrong then, maybe he just earned himself another person who thought he was crazy (as if Alby and Teresa weren’t enough).

“The bond doesn’t work,” the blond repeated after a moment and snorted as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Are you serious? The _bond_ is not a _machine_ to _work_.”

“Well then,” Thomas cleared his throat nervously. “It didn’t happen then. Because it…”

“It?” the boy prompted, tilting his head to the side in a curious gesture. He _had to_ know something, Thomas was sure of it.

“Hurt,” he said a little strongly then and the face of the stranger cleared immediately.

“Boyo,” he addressed Thomas with a sigh. “There is either _want_ or _don’t want_. Nothing in between, you understand? If it _hurts_ , ya don’t want it.”

“I want it!” Thomas barked out, his hands balled to fists, and the blond just gave him an unimpressed look.

“You _can_ fool yourself like that somehow. But you can’t fool the spirit with pretentious bullshit,” he delivered unmercifully, and it rang painfully in Thomas’ head. He _wanted_ it. He knew he wanted; he spent so long thinking about it he came in terms with it, so why would he refuse it like that? It didn’t make any sense.

In his deep thinking process he almost missed how the stranger jumped off the railing and approached him steadily, until he felt the touch on his chest and looked up with a startled expression.

“ _Feel_ this,” the blond told him, staring into his eyes with full focus – it was intense and a little scary. His eyes were like a dark, bottomless abyss and Thomas found himself eerily lost. “If you’re doing it _right_ , you will _know_. If it _burns_ … it’s there.”

The touch disappeared and Thomas felt lost.

***

He woke up and he was burning.

Was it burning? He knew he felt it before. There was fire and it was consuming. He was afraid of it – had he shut it down? His body moved and his mind reeled, he found himself running, breath hitching, and blood pounding in his ears.

It was here. It was time.

The moment he arrived, the exact second he opened the door and saw the black haired man sitting on his pile, staring back at him in confusion, Thomas felt it. He reached out, seizing Minho by his shoulders and sitting on his lap, forcing him backwards.

“It’s burning,” he said. “I want us to burn together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Phew. Okay, I swear it should get better from now on, hopefully. These past few chapters were probably confusing, or boring, or whatever. I tried not to rush it, because it felt wrong, and put some more "we are very different" into it, so it needed some coaxing. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting! You're the loveliest people in the world <3


	15. The Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You just found your mate, dear,” the wolf dropped on him smugly. “It just took you a bit longer to actually get on with the program.”  
> “It did not!” the brunet protested, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence, and he could feel the impatience growing inside of him, as if something just couldn’t get enough and needed Minho closer – much closer – preferably inside, and that thought scared him a little, because he just thought of sex with a wolf and he liked it. “This is so weird.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated M. Probably.

Minho stared at him wide eyed and shock was dripping from his features. Thomas didn’t blame him – or he wouldn’t, if he was actually coherent and thinking rationally. But there was only fire now, only the heat burning him down, the need to get close, to connect somehow, to feel _like one_ with him. It wasn’t vague, it pointed exactly at Minho, as if the world narrowed down to him and he couldn’t see or feel anyone else – somebody else would be wrong and dirty. It was weird, it was unnatural and Thomas never felt anything like that before, but it just felt right, like this was the exact time, an exact place he should be at.

“Can you… feel it now?” Minho asked, his voice wavering. His hand slowly reached up, touching Thomas’ chest, and it trembled a little. “Here?”

“Yesssss.”

Minho’s eyes shone, they were so bright, so overjoyed that Thomas’ stomach jolted at it, the happy, excited feeling deep down in his gut, and then there were hands framing his face and hot, insistent lips on his own, moving slowly, but surely, and it wasn’t like any kiss they shared before. It was more; it connected them somehow, as if it drew a strong line that intertwined them.

“You feel it t-too?” Thomas drew out, his breath hitching, and Minho pushed into him, toppling him over, and it was fine, really, familiar even, but also more, much more, finally making sense.

“Constantly,” the wolf drawled, his lips moving to Thomas throat, licking hot, long stripe and then sucked demandingly, leaving viciously red mark there. Thomas felt the heat rising, the burning consuming him, and it was _amazing._ There was no pain, no uncomfortable feeling, only the pleasant need of _more_.

“How come you haven’t gone mad?” Thomas asked again, angling his head to the side so Minho had more access to his neck, and the wolf immediately seized the opportunity and left more marks over the sensitive skin.

“Who said I haven’t?” Minho chuckled, and he was so relaxed now, so pleased that Thomas probably never seen him like that before. “Maybe I’ve already lost my mind.”

“I’m on verge of losing it _now_ ,” the brunet whimpered, his body shuddering when Minho’s hands dropped to his waist, rolling up the hem of the shirt, connecting with his bare skin. It was scorching, the touch almost electrifying, but so _good_ , and his back arched into it, searching for more.

“Thomas-,”

“You feel so _good_ ,” Thomas panted, his fingers tangling in Minho’s hair, dragging him down for another kiss. “I can’t believe this. I _can’t_ even understand _how_. I never f-felt anything like this-,”

“It’s the bond,” Minho mouthed his jawline and then kissed him deeply, his tongue curling around Thomas’, making a mush from Thomas’ brain, drawing lustful noises from the boy, until he pulled away. Thomas wanted to complain about it, but then his shirt hit his chin and Minho pulled the garment off Thomas’ head in one swift motion.

“An instinct,” the Asian continued, dropping small, tender kisses to Thomas’ collarbone, dragging his teeth over it teasingly and Thomas clawed at his shirt (how weird that Minho actually _had_ a shirt in here, but now it actually bothered him more that made him relieved) in an attempt to take it off him. Minho let him pull it off as well, revealing smooth skin under, and Thomas suddenly didn’t know where to touch, now when he could, when he _wanted to_.

“B-but I’m not a wolf,” the brunet opposed weakly, his breath going out in ragged doses, and Minho started kissing a wet trail down his chest, over his belly. It was hungry, but savouring, and Thomas couldn’t help but feel worshipped, _tasted_ and _approved of._

“It doesn’t matter,” Minho mumbled from the area of Thomas’ belly button. “You always know when you find your mate.”

“Humans don’t have m-mates,” Thomas pointed out, shuddering when Minho dipped his tongue there. His body almost couldn’t handle it, it coursed through him like a liquid fire, up and down, through his whole being – starting somewhere in the middle and spreading into every limb, to his fingertips, endings of his hair, every pore of his body.

“Of course they do,” Minho licked lower, flicking his tongue teasingly over Thomas’ treasure trail, and if Thomas still had distaste towards intimacy with a man, this definitely made him happy to abandon it. “You just can’t sense it like we do.”

“I can,” Thomas protested weakly, throwing his head back, and the noise that came out of his mouth right after probably wasn’t even human. Minho suddenly loomed back over him, looking at him with a shit-eating grin on his face, and goddamn, he was absolutely happy, wasn’t he. He looked like he won a lottery prize and realized he didn’t need to care about anything until his death. Thomas could barely keep up with his breath, how was he doing that?

“You just found your mate, _dear_ ,” the wolf dropped on him smugly. “It just took you a bit longer to actually get on with the program.”

“It did not!” the brunet protested, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence, and he could feel the impatience growing inside of him, as if something just couldn’t get enough and needed Minho closer – much closer – preferably _inside_ , and that thought scared him a little, because he just thought of _sex_ with a wolf and he _liked it_. “This is so _weird_.”

“Mmmh,” Minho lowered himself again, nuzzling Thomas neck affectionately and Thomas found himself opening his legs in invitation without even giving an order to it, letting the man closer.

“I m-mean,” the brunet cleared his throat, trying to stay somewhat coherent, but Minho started to kiss his neck again, and then there was this _pressure_ on his groin, and goddamn, he was hard as rock and he didn’t even know when it happened. “I just woke up and… it wasn’t l-like this before I-can you stop it for a while?!”

“Nope,” Minho uttered from his chest where he was leaving marks like if it was the only thing he wanted to do in his life. “But you can keep talking.”

“How am I supposed to talk with you doing _this_!”

“I’ve left your mouth unoccupied,” the wolf noted, nibbling on Thomas’ hip now after he dragged the waistband of his trousers down a little on the side. Thomas let out a guttural moan that made the Asian chuckle into his skin, and he only dragged the pants even lower, kissing the contours and getting too close to home.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted this?” he heard how Minho said, and it resonated somewhere deep inside of him, it sing-songed _I did too, I wanted it so much too, I want it now_ and he blindly reached for Minho’s frame and dragged him up for another kiss. He tried to pour _everything_ he felt into it, the impatience, the hunger, the need, the _love_ , oh god, _the love_ was so strong now, it was the fire, it was what burned him so much, it consumed his soul only to spit it out better, stronger, and intertwined with Minho’s, and if this was what the bond represented, he was so stupid to refuse it before.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he breathed out, his fingers holding on Minho’s arms in a death grip, and the wolf brushed their lips together, his eyes red like blood, but it didn’t terrify Thomas anymore, it was like he just _claimed_ him, and this was the seal no one could break.

“ _Yes,_ ” the wolf growled, and it was a deep rumble, satisfying that made Thomas moan a little and buck his hips up, just to find the right friction. “I have the best idea in the world.”

“Smug bastard,” Thomas panted out, and then whimpered when Minho rocked against him, angling his hips and _yes_ , that was it, it was delicious and hot and _absolutely not enough_ at the same time. Minho reached out for his hand, squeezing it gently and then putting it where his heart was, pressing against it meaningfully.

“Can you feel it?” he whispered to Thomas hoarsely and the brunet nodded, the fast rhythm of his heart was in sync with his own, a song they both knew now.

“Your heartbeat,” he mumbled, staring at the hand with a ragged breath.

“No,” the wolf refused and lowered down to touch his forehead with Thomas’. “Can you _feel it_?”

Thomas frowned a little, hand twitching, the skin burning into his palm with the thrumming under his fingers, the same pace, the same feelings, the…

“ _Oh._ ”

It was bright and gorgeous and so, _so strong_. Pulsing and expanding, and so gentle, yet powerful, and it was in both of them, it linked them, they were _the one_ and Thomas couldn’t breathe from the sheer pleasure of it.

“I can feel _you_ ,” he managed to croak out and Minho finally smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing Thomas had ever seen.

“And I can feel you,” the wolf nuzzled his cheek. “My _mate_.”

***

Thomas always wondered why the word _mate_ sounded like from a caveman’s era. It was sort of like an ownership, sort of like a naming of a person you were supposed to _mate_ with, to have children or just tons of bodily fluids exchange, and that was it.

He would like to say he was wrong, somehow, but sadly it didn’t seem that way so far. Mainly because there was this creeping hotness that was almost unbearable, and the insistent pressure inside of his belly, the flip-flops of excitement and _fullness_.

He probably even forgot his own name, let’s be honest. He definitely remembered Minho’s name though, because he was repeating it like a mantra, over and over again, and Minho was pushing him into the furs and pounding into him unmercifully, and Thomas could see stars when he closed his eyes. It was so messy and hot and he could barely breathe or _think_ , and yet he wanted more of it, he craved for it to be _deeper_ and maybe even a little more painful so he knew it was real and not a fantasy, and it was really bizarre, because there was his own pleasure, his own experience. And on the other hand he could feel Minho’s as well, the streaks of absolute bliss leaking through the bond to him, mingling them up, and at some point he wasn’t even sure _who_ was the loud one, who kept on moaning and cursing, but it was probably him, wasn’t it.

Even more so when Minho actually flipped him over and got his legs on his shoulders and what the hell, it was like Thomas was being punished for something, but in the best way possible.

“You’re taking it _so well_ ,” that smug bastard whispered and licked Thomas fingers when the brunet tried to reach out for him. “You sure you never did it?”

“I’ve h-had s-sex-ah!” The angle just got absolutely perfect and Minho knew it, hitting the sweet spot over and over again until Thomas was just a whimpering mess of ecstasy and pain and those things were so close to each other he actually forgot which was which and just took it. His whole body ached, not to mention his butt alone, and he could definitely say he was going to hate Minho and himself tomorrow so much, and his shoulders stung and lips were oversensitive, and he thought the furs were already too gross to lie on, and yet he urged Minho on and turned his rational part of brain off.

The wolf growled deeply and his grip got stronger, and Thomas could easily translate it now – the waves of possessiveness leaking into him gradually and he _loved it_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Aaaah. Sorry.


	16. Anticlimatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But there are female wolves that fulfil this pact as well, right?” Thomas didn’t let him abandon the topic and Minho huffed.   
> “Is this a history lecture or are we having a moment here?” the wolf raised his head, his expression almost pouty and Thomas snorted and ruffled his hair.

Thomas thought he would jump out of skin when he woke up and there were red eyes staring at him bit too close for his taste. It was like looking into the pits of something evil and unmerciful, and seeing his own demise.

“What the fuck?!” he shrieked and backed away, falling down from the pile with another yelp, and only got laugh as a response. The weird thing was – it wasn’t Minho. The black wolf was nowhere to be seen, but the blond youngster from yesterday was sitting on the edge of the pile, grinning wildly. His red eyes were deep and rich and Thomas was pretty sure it hadn’t been that way the last time he saw him.

“Well, hello there again, boyo,” the blond greeted him cheerfully, his tone almost too happy. “And congrats on your mateship.” He sniffled and his smile widened. “Quite recent too, huh.”

“Oh my god, shut up, shut up!” Thomas felt his face heating up as he scrambled for clothes (too bad they were really scattered around, _thanks Minho_ , so the first thing he found was a shirt and no pants) and the youngster laughed again, apparently very amused by Thomas frustration. He seriously didn’t expect to wake up to somebody else, not to mention his body was slowly realizing it should be hurting, so it promptly did, making him wince uncomfortably.

“Nothing bad about it,” the blond patted the place next to him, but Thomas really didn’t feel like he should come any closer while he was still butt naked. “Minho is a good pup.”

“And what _pup_ are _you_?” Thomas quickly pulled the shirt over his head, dragging it as low as it could go – and found out it was Minho’s, not his, _fuck it -_ and gave the wolf suspicious glance. He knew there was something fishy about him, knowing so much about wolves and all, showing up at so randomly with a proper advice like some creepy godmother, but he just couldn’t put a finger on it. He seemed so… normal before. If he met Minho in a city, he would probably question him a bit, but not this guy.

“You can call me Newt,” the blond said with a smirk, shamelessly watching him trying to get clothed, _damn that guy_.

“Fine… Newt,” Thomas shuffled further, trying to pull his pants on (his, thankfully, not Minho’s) and Newt smirked. “Any particular reason why are you sitting here, kinda… creeping?”

“Came to see how the only wolf in this area is doing. And why did he refuse to fulfil the pact,” Newt shrugged and stood up, apparently giving up on getting Thomas join him there. His red eyes stayed, like he needed to make sure of his status or something. He walked towards the fireplace and picked an unburned stick there, poking the contents absentmindedly, and Thomas found the scene strangely tense, afraid of the verdict. “Now I see why. And it’s his business. But still wanna know about the Red in here.”

“Uh,” Thomas mumbled nervously. “So… you’ve came for him.”

“For him?”

“For the Red,” Thomas elaborated, finally feeling better with some clothes on and more distance between them.

“Oh, so it’s a boy?” Newt raised an eyebrow and Thomas nodded, a little dumbfounded. He saw Alby before, he had to. He even heard him talking about wolves. Why was he so surprised? “And you know who he is as I gather?”

“Well… yea. My classmate,” he mumbled, confused, and sat back down on the pile, warming up his bare feet. Minho apparently didn’t make fire before leaving (he didn’t blame him, really), so the room was kind of chilled. He was surprised he wasn’t colder when he was asleep, but Minho apparently covered him with furs. “Minho didn’t actually meet him, so…”

Before he could continue, the door opened and Minho entered the hut in a slow pace. He didn’t have any shirt, so Thomas assumed his own laid somewhere around the place where he couldn’t see it. Minho gave Newt a firm nod like he expected him to be there, and then sat down next to Thomas and nuzzled his cheek like it was not a big deal that another wolf was present in his territory. And here Thomas thought wolves were pretty touchy about that topic, but Minho was completely relaxed. His presence immediately made Thomas warmer and more content – he wondered if it was the bond or if he was just this mushy from now on.

Newt smirked at the image - Thomas would say he even seemed pretty pleased about it - but then again why would he be. It was true he helped him to get here, kind of, but still – wouldn’t it be better if Thomas was a wolf, or The Red? A mere human sounded like it wasn’t the best thing under the sun for such creatures. He must have been a wolf too, right? But since Minho was okay with him being here…

“I’m an alpha, that’s why it’s okay for me to be here, boyo,” Newt explained lightly as if he was reading his mind, and Thomas blinked, staring at him in mute awe.

“An alpha…?” he repeated, all those stupid things from werewolf shows running through his head. Like, a leading wolf? Somebody who was the main guy in the group, right?

“I lead the pack,” the blond shrugged and Thomas heard Minho hum behind him in confirmation. “Not that Minho is necessarily part of it, but we… are good acquaintances, let’s say.”

“Oh?” Thomas glanced at the black wolf with raised eyebrow and Minho just gave him a little smile. _Oh great. Sounds shady_.

“So, about the Red? What’s his name?” Newt asked right after, and that there was an apparent impatience in his voice. Thomas wasn’t really sure if it was a good idea to tell him, but then again – it was something ancient that was expected, he would learn sooner or later, right? Not to mention he was a big fish, an alpha who could make it wild if he wanted to.

“It’s Alby. You’ve seen him in school, don’t you remember?” Thomas answered curiously and Newt seemed thoughtful for a while.

“Alby,” he repeated the name, as if he was trying how it feels on his tongue. “You mean… that guy you were talking to about wolves?”

“Well, yeah,” Thomas shrugged and Minho circled his arms around his waist, pulling him closer. It felt so natural he didn’t even mind, he just leaned back, letting the wolf to breathe him in. “I thought you should… feel if it’s Red?”

“We definitely should,” Newt frowned. “ _Him?_ The Red? That’s just… so anticlimactic. And he refused to come to Minho?”

“I don’t think he really refused, he just…” Thomas trailed off and Newt just waved his hand.

“It’s fine. I get it,” he noted, letting out a sigh. “I will take care of it.”

“But you won’t hurt him,” Thomas piped hopefully and Newt grinned, a sudden aura of cheekiness back.

“Not in a bad way.”

***

“How come he didn’t know it was Alby? He literally met him,” Thomas wondered when Newt was already gone, leaving them alone in the hut where they were cuddling together (or better, where Minho stripped him again from everything and then cuddled him while leaving another set of marks wherever he could reach in such position. He was surprisingly gentle though, like he knew Thomas was sore (terribly, terribly sore) and wanted to ease it for him somehow).

“A good question,” Minho mumbled to his skin, licking the mark he just left on the junction of his neck and shoulder. “Newt said it may be because the Red refused to…”

“Be the Red?” Thomas offered when Minho remained quiet, apparently searching for the right words, and he turned around so he could face the man, intertwining their bare legs together. “He was kinda adamant in it, really.”

“It’s unheard of,” Minho grumbled sleepily, nuzzling under Thomas’ chin, his hair tickling the brunet. “But I guess everything is possible. Especially when it’s a boy.”

“It was never a boy before?” Thomas blinked, his fingers immediately running through the black strands gently, earning almost a purr from the wolf (maybe he was a big cat instead?).

“It… was. Probably. Only rarely though,” Minho replied quietly. “Usually it’s a girl.”

“But there are female wolves that fulfil this pact as well, right?” Thomas didn’t let him abandon the topic and Minho huffed.

“Is this a history lecture or are we having a moment here?” the wolf raised his head, his expression almost pouty and Thomas snorted and ruffled his hair.

“A moment, of course,” he assured him and Minho only said _good_ and returned to his previous position, apparently falling asleep, lulled by Thomas’ heartbeat.

“Man, you’re sappy,” Thomas mumbled, even though he probably couldn’t hear him, and settled comfortably as well, nodding off quietly.

***

He woke up abruptly about two hours later when his mind finally caught up with his body and the whole reality, and he jerked away so violently it woke up Minho and almost topped Thomas over the edge of the pile.

“What’s going on?” Minho stared at him with wide eyes, frantically looking around for possible danger, but when he didn’t find any, he settled on Thomas again, demanding answers.

“My parents don’t know where I am!” Thomas let out in pure panic, starting to scramble for his clothes. “I fucking left in the middle of the night, they woke up with me not being at home, what the fuck should I even do – I should be at school!”

“Oi,” Minho yawned, scratching his belly absentmindedly. “Calm down, bucky. They don’t need to think anything, maybe they didn’t notice. Maybe you… got up early and went to school without them seeing you.”

“I’m so _dead_ ,” Thomas ignored him, jumping on one leg to get his jeans on place, then searching for a shirt and socks. “Where is my _jacket_?!”

“You didn’t have any,” Minho shrugged. “You ran here in your shirt, remember?”

“ _No_ ,” Thomas gritted through his teeth. “All I remember is waking up and then being here and having sex.”

“That works too,” the wolf shrugged, and he was so pleased with himself Thomas wanted to kick his shin. But that required too much effort, so he just got his shoes and moved to the door. He didn’t make even two steps before Minho was at him again, holding him back.

“Minho, I gotta go home,” Thomas whined, trying to disentangle, but the wolf only held him closer. “I’ll come back tomorrow, I just need-,”

“I get it,” Minho whispered to his neck, kissing it gently. “Just for a second.”

“Not leaving forever,” the brunet pointed out, but relaxed into the hold minutely.

“I’ll walk you through the woods,” the wolf said, finally easing his hold.

“I know the way.”

“Let me,” Minho insisted, taking the pants and then stopping, staring at it. “These are yours.”

Thomas blinked, looking down at the jeans he was wearing, and groaned. Of fucking course he was wearing Minho’s pants instead of his, this day was just precious. When he tried to get them off, Minho shook his head.

“Nah, forget it,” he shrugged and in a second a black wolf stood there, immediately trotting towards him and demanding a pat on his head. Thomas couldn’t help the chuckle and scratched him gently.

“Well, that works as well,” he concluded and the wolf shot out of the hut right the moment Thomas opened the doors.

He could only hope his parents would believe him, somehow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> God, sorry for such slow updates lately, I suck T^T It should end soon, hopefully :)


	17. The Betrayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m in love,” he just said like it explained everything and she nodded quietly.   
> “Yes, I know,” she assured him. “But that doesn’t mean you can just… disappear like that.”  
> “It’s complicated.”  
> “Complicated how?” she tilted her head, her long, black hair rolling around her pretty face like a curtain of darkness, and Thomas was so tired of keeping it all for himself.   
> “He’s a wolf,” he replied shortly and he saw how her expression morphed into confusion in seconds. He didn’t really blame her.

His parents were livid. They were waiting for him at the door and once Thomas entered the house, he knew he was majorly screwed. The teacher called, the absence he gathered got revealed, and that already granted him zero outside time, no phone and a strict regime.

But it got _nothing_ on the fact when they realized he had been sleeping with somebody and left during the night. His mother was completely _horrified_ when she saw his neck ( _thanks, Minho, thank you so much_ ), when she smelled him (like a dog, like forest, like _sex_ ) and when she realized he didn’t tell them about having a date.

Thomas was in a big unpleasant shit.

The fact that it was his mother who was driving him to school spoke volumes. She had that super pissed off expression that held him back from saying anything, even hello or goodbye, and when he left her car the next day to go to school, she looked like she wanted to make a mortal threat to him. He was sort of grateful she didn’t.

He wasn’t even sure how he managed to get to his class, sitting down as if in a trance, almost not noticing Teresa staring at him intently.

“You look like shit,” surprisingly it was a boy’s voice that sounded, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t Teresa who spoke, but somebody on the opposite side of his seat. “And smell distressed. Shit happened?”

He quickly glanced towards the right direction and his eyes widened in shock.

“Newt?” he breathed out, seeing the blond boy sitting in the class like he belonged there, and Newt gave him a toothy smile.

“You know him?” Teresa whispered from the other side, clearly uncomfortable by his presence, and Thomas couldn’t find a suitable excuse even if somebody threatened him with the end of the world.

“Of course he knows me, he just said my name,” Newt answered instead of him, and there was an annoyed undertone in his voice. “Right, sweetcheeks?”

“Oh man,” Thomas couldn’t deal with the implication and heard Teresa gasp a little, probably when she noticed his neck. Because yeah, everyone noticed his neck lately. It was hard not to. “Not here.”

“So modest,” Newt chuckled and Thomas felt Teresa grabbing his wrist and pulling at it, and that was a cue to surrender to her insistence and be dragged out of the room like a rag doll. He was so out of it he actually went with her without a fight, just to be stopped in the hallway at the wall with her in front of him, stormy expression ruling her face.

“What’s going on with you?” she immediately started, her voice an angry whisper. “You didn’t come yesterday again, the teacher got fed up and probably wants to give you hell for it – and now you look like you were doing nothing else than fucking with somebody!”

He looked away, his chest tight with an unintelligible feeling he couldn’t put a finger on (it wasn’t painful, but it seized him somehow, like an obligation he was unable to fill, and he wondered if it was the bond that knew he was unable to leave his house to see his mate, or just some side effect of it, or maybe only his unconsciousness being aware he messed up and awaited punishment).

“Tom,” she nudged him insistently. “Talk to me.”

“Yes, I’ve _fucked_ with somebody,” he uttered, his mood dropping even lower when she played the bad cop. “Yes, I haven’t been in school yesterday. And yes, the teacher called my parents and they took the action. Happy now?”

“Tom,” she repeated his name with a sigh. “Seriously?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered. There was strange emptiness that wanted to be filled, and he _knew_ how, but _couldn’t_ do it now. Or any time soon. It felt so wrong.

“Try me,” she insisted. “Stop shutting me out. What’s going on? You were never this enigmatic.”

“I’m in love,” he just said like it explained everything and she nodded quietly.

“Yes, I know,” she assured him. “But that doesn’t mean you can just… disappear like that.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated _how_?” she tilted her head, her long, black hair rolling around her pretty face like a curtain of darkness, and Thomas was so tired of keeping it all for himself.

“He’s a wolf,” he replied shortly and he saw how her expression morphed into confusion in seconds. He didn’t really blame her.

“A wolf,” she echoed and he cringed, waiting for a something, anything that would call him a crazy guy, a weirdo, a nutjob.

“For real?” she asked instead, staring at him intently. “The black wolf from woods?”

Thomas blinked, looking at her in silent shock, and then managed to nod, not really understanding how it led to this so suddenly. She seemed like she… knew?

“So he’s really there…” she mumbled more to herself than to him, and really, _what_? “I wasn’t sure, the photo was sketchy, thought it was just a big dog…”

“There is no reason to be scared of him,” he tried to assure he somehow, she paled so suddenly he thought she was going to faint soon. “Minho is-.”

“On the contrary, there _is_ a reason for you to be scared,” Newt’s voice sounded behind them like a crippling static and Thomas didn’t notice him coming – and judging from Teresa’s startled expression neither did she. “I thought the stench was foul. Now it makes sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Thomas turned to him unhappily, noting how she took a step back, suddenly looking so scared he almost didn’t recognize her. “What’s going on?”

“The blood always tells, doesn’t it,” Newt ignored him, looking at her with narrowed eyes. “And here I thought there is none left of you.”

“Newt-,” Thomas tried, but Teresa was faster, her small body stepping forward.

“I’ve done _nothing_ wrong!” she said resolutely, her voice trembling a little. “You can’t chase me down just because _one_ ancestor did something hundreds of years ago!”

“What?” Thomas breathed out in disbelief.

“Minho hadn’t told you about the legend, Tommy?” Newt finally ushered a glance to his direction, his eyes red like blood, and what the hell, they were in school! “About the lumberjack that fouled The Red?”

“He did, but…”

“We call those scums the Betrayer,” Newt looked back at Teresa, her posture shrunk back to a defensive stance. “I wasn’t sure when I saw her, there was this distinctive smell coming from you too, but faint, too faint, like you were maybe in vicinity of one only, so I never paid mind to it. But her smell is… strong. The Betrayer in all her glory, right, miss?”

“This is not fair,” she spitted out. “It’s a long forgotten story, you can’t!”

“Can’t I?” the blond took a step forward and stopped when Thomas clutched his arm firmly, halting his movement. He didn’t know where exactly that action came wrong, but it was just wrong to let him do anything that would make her uncomfortable, or in the worst scenario, hurt her.

“Stop, just… stop,” he pleaded, looking at the wolf desperately. He knew how wolves lived through the legend, how seriously they took it, especially when it came to the lumberjack. “The story is old, you can’t just threaten her like this. She never did anything to offend you, so… stop.”

Newt watched his hand for a moment, and then focused at his face with a strange intensity in his eyes. He was like x-ray, scanning him thoroughly, as if he tried to find _something_ in Thomas’ bare soul. Thomas didn’t know what exactly could it be, or if he can offer something as an explanation, but he held his ground stubbornly.

After a moment Newt’s posture visibly relaxed and he nodded mutely, stepping away, like he just found the right reason why to do that.

“Thank you,” Thomas mumbled, his fingers slowly easing their grip, and Newt watched him carefully for a moment, like he wasn’t sure what to say, until he let out a sigh.

”You _are_ The Red,” he said softly, his eyes gentle. “Somehow. You just _are_.”

Thomas wondered if it was right it made him feel so proud.

***

Teresa was so, so quiet. She was just sitting there, pale and absolutely mute for the whole day. It made him uneasy, even though she hadn’t been a literal chatterbox normally, this was just too strange. Newt was there too, on the other side of Thomas, and thankfully hadn’t made any new advances on her – or Alby at that point.

He actually didn’t even notice the boy, like him being The Red meant nothing. Thomas felt like he just got caught up in a weird shit storm of supernatural and didn’t know what else could turn out to be related to this cause somehow.

But really, Teresa was some kind of descendant of the lumberjack? The one that raped the original Red? For real? How was even possible for Newt to actually (literally) sniff it out? And had she knew things like The Red did, or was she just faintly acquainted with the fear of wolves only? After all it was a wolf that killed the lumberjack.

Thomas had so many questions, but neither of his two companions seemed they wanted to share anything. Thomas was grateful at least for the peace they maintained, with Newt calming down and stopping glowing red, and Teresa not agitating him either.

“Are you really in love with one of them?” she suddenly asked, quiet, so quiet he barely heard her. “With a wolf? Even though you’re not their protégé?”

“A protégé?” he repeated with a frown and she nodded towards Alby.

“The Red.”

“How do you know _he_ is The Red?” he blinked in surprise, glancing Alby’s direction just to be greeted with turned back. Nothing new.

“Of course I do,” she mumbled. “He knows who I am as well. But it’s so faint now, like it’s fading. He doesn’t feel very… him anymore.”

“That’s just bonkers,” he grumbled, staring into his notebook full of unintelligible scribbles instead of notes he should have been taking during the lesson. “I mean… you _feel_ this stuff? You’re fucking human, how can you even…”

“I thought you’re the one dating a wolf,” she cracked a small, weak smile. “It’s just… here. I looked into it a lot before, it was scary and dangerous and I wanted to know how to break it. Didn’t find anything, only that I just _know_ when someone was _them_. Either of them.”

“ _How_?” he tried to understand, absolutely dumbfounded. “How can you know? I mean… you see them differently or… smell them or…?”

“When it’s a wolf, I usually get this weird… panic attack, or something,” she fidgeted, her eyes skimming towards Newt who didn’t pay them any attention, or he pretended very well not to. “It’s like you _know_ you should be scared of them, like you can _feel_ they have sharp teeth that already tasted this blood…”

“That’s really creepy,” he pointed out.

“You said you had sex,” she changed the topic suddenly and Thomas almost stuttered to halt at that. “That means you got bonded to a wolf. You have to have the perception as well now.”

“And how do you know _that_?” his jaw almost dropped and she gave him a strange look. “Don’t tell me you feel that too. That I am…?”

“In a vague sense,” she responded slowly. “But I told you – I made a thorough research. My ancestors made the research as well – especially at how to stay low and not agitate the wolves more. They used to be hunted a lot.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, I believe back before it was intense,” she nodded in agreement. “Now it’s more like… a warning.”

“You never told me,” he mumbled, even though it was a dumb notion, and she even made a face at that.

“Yes, of course I never told you,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re normal. You don’t need to get dragged into this whole shitty business.”

“The shitty business your kind started,” Newt’s voice broke into the conversation bitterly and she hissed and shut up. Thomas frowned at the blond and the wolf just huffed and stopped paying attention to them again.

“Well, now I am in this _shitty business_ ,” Thomas got back to her, and she seemed rather reluctant to keep talking. He thought of smacking Newt over his head, but it wouldn’t probably help, so he left it be.

“Yes, but I didn’t know that until today,” she uttered hesitantly. “You were so vague, it told me nothing. I thought you just had some life crisis of falling in love with a guy.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he shrugged. “But that’s beside the point.”

“If you say so,” she just concluded and remained quiet for the rest of the lesson. He didn’t really blame her, Newt started throwing imaginary daggers at her again anyway.

***

“Can you tell Minho I’m grounded?”

Newt snorted and Thomas really regretted Minho was so out of the civilization. A simple text or a call would be less of a suffering than having Newt laughing at him.

“It’s his fault, so stop laughing,” he mumbled unhappily, pulling the hoodie closer to his neck. Minho was literally vicious in his conquest of get him marked, so no one could overlook it.

“I can tell,” the blond snickered and nodded after. “Yea, will tell your pup you’re unavailable.”

“Don’t tell him about Teresa,” Thomas warned him sternly. “He’d rage”

“Of course he would, he’s a wolf,” Newt uttered coldly and Thomas could sense it made him uneasy as well. But it seemed ridiculous now, it was 21st Century and Teresa may have killed a spider as a biggest sin she ever did.

If only those group of furries would understand.

“Well, happy grounding, _Red_ ,” Newt nudged his shoulder and disappeared in the corridor like a shadow. Thomas could only hope he would tell Minho a proper version of this and there won’t be a supernatural war going on the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I may have plot-twisted a bit too much. Yeaaaaaaaaah.


	18. Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s the fucking point of grounding somebody,” he heard the wolf saying, muffled against the skin on his neck where he started mouthing hotly, as if he was trying to keep alive all the marks he left there before. “So ridiculous, I can’t believe they keep you away from me this way.”  
> “My parents,” Thomas gasped, his hands clutching the garment between his fingers, and his body itched for more contact, for deeper and messier one, and it was so weird, really, because he felt like in heat, wanting to ache a little maybe, as if this wasn’t enough. It was scary, a bit annoying, but completely overwhelming, and he couldn’t think rationally at all.   
> “Your parents are nuts,” Minho whispered to his ear, biting there and then licking it soothingly. “Come with me.”

Thomas could barely sleep. His parents didn’t really antagonize him further when he came home, but they rarely talked to him as well. It was like super quiet household with possible food service and sleeping accommodation.

Thomas didn’t want them to think he was doing anything bad behind their back, but he seriously didn’t know how to explain it to them either, so he remained quiet and acted like he was really sorry about the whole thing (down-casting his eyes, holding back the smart remarks, saying only yes and no). He stayed in his room for most of the time and it probably helped the whole thing as well (even though his mom always glared at him – or better at his neck – every time he walked by, and that made him unexceptionably guilty about the whole thing).

His grounding seriously hadn’t been helping his sleeping pattern though. He lay wide awake night by night, staring into the ceiling while the clock showed 2 AM, and his body always thrummed with unreleased energy and the strange longing trying to get out of his chest to find the only person that could help with it. The more he tried to get busy with something else – reading, writing, watching a movie – the more it became apparent, until he just gave up and decided to suffer through it, cursing Minho to the hell and beyond.

What he hadn’t been expecting was that his window would open and person slinks inside the room like a shadow. Thomas immediately sat up in his bed, staring at the figure with wide eyes, until he realized he was looking at Minho who seemed a bit confused at first, before he was sure it was Thomas on the bed, and he actually got into the right place.

“What the-,”

“It’s really easy to climb up here, I’m concerned,” Minho interrupted him, his body immediately moved towards the brunet, crawling on the bed, and before Thomas could even stop him, or at least demand answers, Minho pressed him back to the sheets and sealed his mouth with his own. It was more of a pressure than a deep kiss, but the contact made Thomas’ chest explode from the inside with something super warm, almost liquid, like if the blood spilled out and all over, but it was a good feeling, almost too nice, too pleasant. It made him gasp into Minho’s mouth, granting entrance that way, and the wolf immediately seized the opportunity and kissed him harder, deeper and messier. It made _everything_ disappear, like the time froze and the place itself got removed from the existence, and only they remained, touching and tasting and assuring the hungry beast inside of their bodies that they were together again, that it can be sated.

“Missed you,” Minho whispered to his mouth when he pulled back by a tiny fraction, his fingers digging into Thomas’ shoulders like he was holding him in place – without a point, really, Thomas wouldn’t run anywhere – and it was burning them alive.

“Yeah,” Thomas breathed out, his own hands catching Minho’s shirt (he had a shirt? Was he really getting civilized?) and pulling him closer, his mind in total haze, and the Asian went easily, flopping over him without a fight.

“What’s the fucking point of grounding somebody,” he heard the wolf saying, muffled against the skin on his neck where he started mouthing hotly, as if he was trying to keep alive all the marks he left there before. “So ridiculous, I can’t believe they keep you away from me this way.”

“My parents,” Thomas gasped, his hands clutching the garment between his fingers, and his body itched for more contact, for deeper and messier one, and it was so weird, really, because he felt like in heat, wanting to ache a little maybe, as if this wasn’t enough. It was scary, a bit annoying, but completely overwhelming, and he couldn’t think rationally at all.

“Your parents are nuts,” Minho whispered to his ear, biting there and then licking it soothingly. “Come with me.”

“I can’t,” Thomas whimpered under the solid weight of his _mate_. “I want to, but I _can’t_.”

“Man, that sucks,” the wolf grumbled, his hands slowly sliding lower, pressing against Thomas’ ribcage, then his waist, until he seized his hips, slowly rocking against him. “How can I make them change their minds?”

“You?” Thomas laughed breathlessly, his body responding fervently, and god, this was so wrong, so dangerous, and they were in _his_ house, with _his_ parents present. If they walked on them making out here, it would be probably the end of the world. His mom would make sure of it.

“Yeah,” Minho responded, his lips latching on Thomas’ collarbone now, dragging his shirt’s collar as low as he could, and _goddamn_ , there were teeth as well. “This is unacceptable.”

“They just need to see I’m b-behaving,” Thomas’ breath hitched at another contact their hips made, his body already burning impatiently. “The fact I’d let them meet a _guy_ I’m dating wouldn’t really h-help.”

“A girl would be more acceptable?” Minho raised his head, looking at him curiously, and Thomas gulped loudly and attempted a shrug.

“Probably,” he admitted, fidgeting a little, and Minho tilted his head to the side.

“That’s lame,” the wolf commented and Thomas wanted to agree, really, but the rest of his normally thinking brain cells probably disappeared completely, because all he could do was staring and tugging at the shirt to get Minho to kiss him. The wolf compelled without another word, kissing his mate surprisingly gently like he was trying to convey something important to him, and Thomas hugged him and pulled closer.

“You know,” he mumbled when Minho nuzzled his neck and rested there, his body suddenly heavy and almost limp, like all the energy disappeared and he just wanted to be comfortable. “Newt seemed to think I’m the Red.”

“Mhm,” the wolf hummed. “You feel like the Red.”

“You don’t know how the Red feels,” Thomas teased him, chuckling a little, and Minho huffed and sneaked a kiss on Thomas’ bare skin on his throat.

“Feels like you,” he concluded softly. “Like a pact. Like a mate. Like home.”

“Because I’m your mate,” Thomas pointed out, trying to stop smiling like a loon, but it was a heroic effort. The words resonated within him pleasantly, like the nicest thing anyone ever said to him, and Minho started rubbing lazy circles on his hipbone, somehow sneaking under the clothes, just resting there. “But I’m not Newt’s mate.”

“As if,” the wolf snorted. “I’m not sharing.”

“No one wants you to,” Thomas chuckled and a grip around his waist strengthened a little. It was strangely endearing.

“Good,” Minho breathed out. “But it’s not just because we belong now. You feel like the Red because you are… you.”

“That didn’t help,” Thomas pointed out, pulling at Minho’s hair stubbornly and earned a deep rumble from it.

“You _know_ ,” Minho elaborated quietly. “Like the Red knows. You have something we respond to. The Red should have it.”

“But Alby…?”¨

“Newt said Alby is lost to it,” Minho raised his head again, looking Thomas in the eye seriously. “Like… he refused. But he refused wholesomely, rejecting the whole life of it, and apparently so well he just… stopped.”

“Stopped being the Red?” the brunet blinked in confusion. Because how can you _stop_ being something you have in your blood? As if Minho could wish away being the wolf.

“Yeah,” the Asian nodded though, confirming the strange theory. “I never heard about it before. Newt did, a long time ago, but maybe it was just a rumour. But when he met the boy, there was… nothing. Maybe something really, really faint, but that could have been anything.”

“Maybe he wasn’t the Red to begin with?” Thomas offered, his fingers trailing through Minho’s hair absentmindedly, and Minho’s chest rumbled in pleasure. Thomas would say he _purred_ , but rather kept his mouth shut.

“Nah,” the wolf refused, manoeuvring his body lower, so his chin rested on Thomas’ chest when he laid down again. “The Alpha knows. Faint as it might be, it _was_ there. But he extinguished the flame, so there is nothing but a remnant of what he used to be. And his whole bloodline.”

“It just disappeared? Like… discontinued?” Thomas stopped with movement and Minho made an impatient nose in his throat and pushed into Thomas’ still hand demandingly.

“Yes,” he replied anyway. “The whole bloodline is… over, let’s say.”

“That’s sad?” Thomas offered, a little dumbfounded how even such thing could happen, just _wishing it away_. “After so long…”

“Maybe it just needs to be forgotten already,” Minho shrugged, humming contently when Thomas started running his fingers through his hair again. “It had been centuries. Old grudges, ancient ties no one wants anymore…”

“Wolves do?” the brunet opposed, and it was weird, but it pained him a little. Like the thought alone of such tradition being killed off so suddenly – it felt unnatural.

“Yeah,” Minho admitted. “We do. But it’s different for humans. The calling is not as strong as within the beast, so it was bound to happen. Ending up just as a fairy tale of how a heroic lumberjack killed the big bad wolf.”

That mention made Thomas though of Teresa again, and yeah, there was one plus point at least. She was right when she accused them of holding grudges no longer relevant to anyone. And yet… he felt strangely sad.

“Well, I can be your Red if you ever need one,” he offered gently and Minho chuckled, leaning towards him again, stealing a short kiss.

“You already are,” he assured him. “The best Red of them all.”

“You don’t know any other Red,” Thomas snorted, but his _mate_ just grinned wider and stole another kiss, this time deeper and surer.

“Still the best,” he whispered to Thomas’ lips, and yeah. Thomas selfishly believed him.

***

“Mom, can we talk?”

The petite woman stopped in her tracks from the kitchen to the living room and gave Thomas a strange look. He was pretty sure she expected him to say something horrible, admit he was doing drugs or something, and he didn’t really blame her. His record of skipping classes and disappearing during the night seriously hadn’t helped.

“Yes, we can,” she answered anyway, even that her eyes were unsure and a little scared of what she was going to hear, and he understood. He was just glad his father wasn’t at home – he felt like dealing with two of them at the same time would probably make him lost his courage.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened,” he started when she didn’t seem wanting to move from her spot, and well, it was good as any other. “The absence and stuff. I should have told you.”

“Tom, if there is something… illegal you’ve been doing…” she stopped herself, her lower lip trembled, and it made him cringe. She thought of him as a criminal now? Well, that escalated quickly.

“I have a boyfriend,” he blurted out lamely, because coming out as gay was definitely lesser evil than saying he killed somebody and need help with hiding the corpse. Her eyes widened comically at first, then she skimmed towards his neck and back up to his face, and then a loud sob sounded and she started crying like a baby.

 _Well, fuck_.

“B-boyfriend,” she sniffled, tears falling over her cheeks like she couldn’t help herself. “You have a b-boyfriend and h-haven’t even told me...?”

“I… didn’t really know how?” he offered, and there was something strange about the cry of hers, like it suddenly wasn’t _sad_ , just… there.

“I thought you had been in a gang or s-something,” she sobbed and suddenly he was seized in a crushing hug (for such small woman she had quite strong grip). “Doing something b-bad!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, hugging her back in relief, feeling a little stupid for it, but enduring it anyway. “It’s not illegal, I swear.”

He felt her nod into his shoulder, her sobs slowly quieting down, and he started counting, expecting the fateful question that was definitely going to appear, until she suddenly took a breath and _yeah_ , there it was.

“Are you going to bring him here?”

 _Naturally_.

“Dad would freak out,” he opposed, releasing his hold, but she refused to let go, so he stood there awkwardly like a statue with her draped over him.

“He thought you’re doing _drugs_ ,” she pointed out rather unhappily. “Having a boyfriend is _nothing_.”

“Geez,” he groaned. So much for the trust they had in him.

“Bring him here,” she said again, finally letting him go, so she could look at his face. Her eyes looked puffed and red, but she was smiling and that was a good sign.

“Mom-,”

“No excuses,” her expression grew grim in a second, almost unnaturally so, for how fast it was. “He got you in this trouble. He should at least have the guts to show his face here.”

_Not that he hadn’t showed his face here last night…_

“Tom,” her voice was dangerously low, and he forced down the urge to roll his eyes and just nodded. “Good. Go call him.”

“What? But-,”

“Go. Call. Him,” she pointed at the staircase leading to his room and Thomas groaned.

“He doesn’t have a phone,” he mumbled unhappily. No phone, basically no way to reach him, except going to his place personally, which sucked in a long run, Thomas knew. He wondered how much denial would Minho show if he tried to get him use a cell phone…

His mom looked unconvinced though, so he just shrugged. “He’s a caveman, sue him.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” she gave him a sweet, but threatening smile. “For today’s dinner.”

Thomas didn’t know what was worse. The countdown above his head or the fact Minho was going to sit with all of them at one table with Thomas’ mom staring at him, his father looking horrified and Minho’s possible wolf-like eating habits coming to life.

It was going to be disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I'm sooooooo sorry for how late this chapter was, asdfjdklfdl. Got too caught up in the hartwin fic, lol. I sincerily apologize QQ  
> This should be one of the last chapters... I suppose the next one should end it all :)   
> Thank you for your patience! <3


	19. Just Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the only business I want to attend to, frankly,” he informed with a grin and Thomas rolled his eyes and tugged at Minho’s hair.  
> “Your business needs you to come to his house in the evening then. About six. Through the front door,” he told him teasingly and Minho caught his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly and then dragging teeth over his knuckles.  
> “Mmmh, if my business wishes,” he mumbled to his skin and Thomas smirked and snatched his hand away, so he could hug him again. It seemed calmer now, not rushed, not so needy. Just… pleasant, sated. Like they both knew they were safe to meet without consequences or stopping.

Not having a phone when somebody was trying to reach you was seriously the biggest obstacle ever. Thomas wondered if he could get a telepathic power over the course of an hour to get a hang of the wolf without leaving the house, but since it seemed like a futile effort (and he seriously considered it, with everything that was going on lately he wouldn’t even be surprised he would grew another head or something, not to mention being telepathic), he had no other choice but to sneak out of the house and go fetch Minho by himself.

Bad thing was – he had to literally become ninja for his mom not to spot him. Good thing was – he managed to do so and found himself in the woods in a few, a little breathless after the run, but free.

But really, had Minho even had at least one set of presentable clothes? Was he even civilised enough to sit with his super suspicious parents at one table, eating dinner and act like it was all fine and dandy? Would he even want to? After all, this whole parent thing wasn’t in the manual, was it – not something the bond forced him to do. All he wanted was to keep Thomas close as it seemed, to snuggle and do all the mushy stuff, and dinner with two more unhelpful souls would probably be a massive turn off.

Thomas could say Minho refused. He might even had to do that if Minho would be against it for real – his mom could do shit about that. There was no way she would find the guy anyway, and even though she could be really threatening, Thomas doubted it would change anything.

“Don’t tell me you’ve ran away?”

Thomas yelped and turned around with wildly beating heart, seeing Minho perched on one of the fallen tree trunks, grinning at him happily. He had pants and that was about it and it just made Thomas even more unsure about the possible proceedings they could have in his house.

“I got sent after you,” he responded grudgingly and Minho perked up and tilted his head.

“Newt?” he tried and Thomas waved his hand in refusal and stepped closer. Once he was within reach, the wolf grabbed him and pulled close enough to hug him with a content sigh, like he was waiting for it the whole day.

“My mom, actually,” the brunet mumbled, nosing Minho’s shoulder absentmindedly. He smelled like forest and it calmed him down somehow. “You’re in a big trouble, mister.”

“Your mom?” Minho repeated incredulously, but didn’t ease his hold at all. “Elaborate?”

“Well,” Thomas took a deep breath. “I told her about you. I mean, the dating part, not the… wolf part. And she wants you to come for dinner today.”

Minho remained silent for a while, his hands slowly caressing Thomas’ back like he didn’t even want to answer anything, but then he hummed and kissed the boy on his neck.

“Well, why not,” he rumbled. “It’s not like I have any other pressing matters to attend to.”

“And here I thought you run some kind of business in the woods,” Thomas chuckled, a relief flooding his system gradually, and Minho snorted and finally released him to the point they could look to each other’s face.

“You’re the only business I want to attend to, frankly,” he informed with a grin and Thomas rolled his eyes and tugged at Minho’s hair.

“Your business needs you to come to his house in the evening then. About six. Through the front door,” he told him teasingly and Minho caught his hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly and then dragging teeth over his knuckles.

“Mmmh, if my business wishes,” he mumbled to his skin and Thomas smirked and snatched his hand away, so he could hug him again. It seemed calmer now, not rushed, not so needy. Just… pleasant, sated. Like they both knew they were safe to meet without consequences or stopping. “Also… I may have a meeting scheduled.”

“A meeting?” Thomas blinked in surprise and Minho suddenly let him go and jumped down the trunk, resuming the touching in a second.

“Well, a successful business have to have a meeting from time to time, no?” he grinned at him cheekily, and _of course_ that’s what he meant. “If you’re free until dinner, maybe we can… go through some, um… prospects? Together?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Thomas laughed, but let himself to be pulled through the woods anyway, because yeah, of course a _meeting_ would do them good right now.

An hour and half later Thomas could successfully say that it did.

***

“How did she take it?”

Thomas’ hand stilled its motion through Minho’s hair, successfully trading fingers through it and styling it into Mohawk so he could laugh at it later, and let out a sigh. Minho was resting his head on Thomas’ stomach, one of his hands curled around Thomas’ thigh, caressing the naked skin there, and the hut was warm and cosy with fire crackling in the fireplace. The nest they were lying in was comfortable and made Thomas sleepy.

“Better than I thought she would,” he replied softly, resuming the petting slowly, earning and appreciative hum. “She thought I’m doing something illegal, so… _only_ having a boyfriend was apparently nothing in comparison.”

“Awesome,” Minho snorted and suddenly turned over, nestling himself between Thomas’ thighs and resting on his chest. “How bad are you expecting it to be?”

“Just awkward,” Thomas offered, his hands latching on Minho’s broad back, mapping the lean lines of it with his fingers. The small of his back made the wolf shudder under the touch, so Thomas did it again and earned a nibble to his collarbone. “Mom is probably going to be embarrassingly curious, giving you weird questions.”

“Like how did we meet?” Minho looked up and grinned, definitely already having an equally embarrassing story under his sleeve.

“If you’re planning something stupid-,”

“Chill,” the wolf chuckled and pecked him in consolation. “We met in the woods. That’s the true story, right? You had been… running. I had been running. So we started running together.”

“That’s basically what happened,” Thomas agreed with a smirk and laughed a little more when he noticed Minho’s hair still had the proper shape of a Mohawk he had been trying to do before.

“See, not stupid at all,” the wolf pointed out and then his expression changed into a thoughtful one. “Not sure if I have proper clothes though…”

“Figures,” Thomas sighed and yeah, that’s what he thought as well. Clothes and Minho don’t really mix that well, so if he flipped out a tuxedo, Thomas would probably faint.

“I’ll think of something,” Minho assured him and wriggled a little, eliciting a surprised gasp out of the brunet at the sudden friction. “But in the meantime…”

“We have only an hour left,” Thomas mumbled, trying to get away from the contact without success. His body was waking up again, ready to get some nice loving, but goddamn, they did it already and they had about an hour before his parents would expect them, and it would be awkward enough that they would come there together when Thomas should have been home instead, and even more if they would come together _and_ late.

“I’ll make sure we spend it wisely then,” the Asian purred at him and yeah, that was about it. Thomas gave up being hard to get, because he wasn’t, he really, really wasn’t with this guy – quite the opposite. The amount of embarrassing want that accumulated in him was ridiculous and it wanted to get sated – and who was he to stop it? There was no rule against it, no one that would tell them to knock it off, so screw shyness or annoying morals, his boyfriend was overly hot and wanton and he was in love.

It’s not like they couldn’t check up on time while at it, right?

***

“You’re late.”

Thomas cringed and tried to look as sheepish as possible while under the watchful gaze of his mother in between the doors. It was all Minho’s fault anyway, that guy just kept on going and making mess out of the brunet, like he wanted to utterly destroy him, or own him, or maybe both. It was absolutely maddening at that point, because Thomas _knew_ they were late already, but couldn’t stop himself anyway. So he returned all kisses he got and if they turned filthy it was probably from his own initiative, so yeah, he was to blame as well.

“Sorry,” he apologized profusely and skimmed his eyes towards Minho standing next to him. He actually looked pretty good, like, seriously presentable, with white shirt and black pants, and Thomas probably didn’t want to know where he got those clothes.

“Uh, mom, this is Minho,” he glanced back at her. “Min-,”

“That big black dog is yours, isn’t it,” she interrupted Thomas resolutely and he quieted down immediately. She didn’t sound mad or anything, but she wasn’t happy and carefree either. It took him a moment before he realized what she was actually asking and he almost choked at the implication. Asking the wolf if the wolf was his, for fuck’s sake.

“Yeah,” Minho agreed without hesitation though. “Sorry that he ran away. He got very attached to this guy.”

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but then her face relaxed and she stepped to the side, letting them in. Thomas counted it as a win and didn’t miss Minho’s smug smirk that was aimed at him cheekily.

Well, it was earned.

The dinner was indeed ready, and the kitchen smelled amazing. Thomas’ appetite dropped somewhere below zero though, when he saw his dad sitting at the table already, looking positively murderous. He didn’t even try to look welcoming, he just glared at Minho like Thomas was his daughter and the Asian boy was ought to steal him. Which was a pretty creepy thought…

“Dad,” he said with a frown. “Can you _please_ at least act like he didn’t drink your last beer?”

“I’d never,” Minho assured him with all honesty and Thomas wondered if he even drank beer to begin with.

“Well, sorry for finding out my son has a boyfriend this afternoon and not being overly happy about it,” his dad grumbled, and yeah, of course he made an issue out of it. He was thankful that his mom actually stepped up there, seizing her husband in a disapproving stare, and it at least made him quiet through the whole ordeal.

***

“It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Minho concluded, his voice a low, pleasant rumble, and Thomas chuckled and hold onto him tighter. They were walking through the dark street for about ten minutes and even though Thomas knew he had to go back at some point (his dad looked like he wanted to handcuff him to a heater, and his mom ordered him to come back immediately), he refused to let it ruin this. Minho was warm and solid and his arm was circled around Thomas’ waist like a protective binding, and it was so strangely domestic, so calming that Thomas almost couldn’t believe it turned out to be like this without a fight.

“It wasn’t _that_ good either,” he shot back for good measure and Minho squeezed him and kissed the top of his head.

Thomas considered today’s dinner a success – the food was pretty good, his mother made mostly all the talking, Minho showed an insane amount of eating like a civilised person and being able to respond to any kind of question without showing he’s living in the woods, and in the end his mom seemed sort of… satisfied. His dad made faces, of course, but it was more of an act in the end of the meal, so Thomas knew in few weeks or months, he would be absolutely alright with the topic.

There was a question if they should tell them about the wolf thing as well, but Thomas rather left it be for now, since the fact he didn’t bring a girl home but a guy was enough to work on.

“Come with me,” the wolf whispered to his ear softly. “Spend the night.”

“I can’t, you heard them,” Thomas responded quietly and Minho hummed and stopped, just to wrap his arms around the brunet and hug him close.

“I did, but I still want you to.”

“Persistent,” Thomas snorted and buried his face into Minho’s shirt, letting him swing them from side to side. Of course he wanted to be with him too. He felt the phase of being addicted to the other was now hitting him in full force, and will be there for some time.

“I’ll try to get off the hook tomorrow?”

“Please do,” Minho sighed, and he sounded a little sad, which was totally unfair. It was just one day and he saw how his parents reacted, he couldn’t just disobey them again and earn even longer grounding – it would only hurt them both.

“I can always come back with you,” Minho piped, making Thomas chirp curiously. “You know, like a wolf?”

“Sneaky,” Thomas laughed, but that idea held a certain appeal. Of course he would have to stay as a wolf for the whole night, but just the fact he would be there with Thomas… it sounded nice. Not to mention he kind of missed the big furry fella.

“I sense a _yes_ ,” Minho drawled, nudging Thomas encouragingly. “Hmm?”

“Yes,” Thomas breathed out and Minho lifted him from the ground, spun him around and kissed him soundly. Before Thomas could even react properly, the grip disappeared and a big black wolf was standing next to him, wagging his tail.

“Smooth,” Thomas grinned and petted Minho’s head appraisingly. “But behave or they’ll kick us both out.”

A bark sealed it like an oath and Thomas was pretty sure they were going to manage _just fine_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Aaaaand this is the end, wooo. Sorry I dragged it for so long, I lost motivation of writing like... a month ago, haha. But! Yeah, finally finished it :D Thank you all for reading and commenting, you were the most amazing folks ever and I love you <3
> 
> Edit: if you want a one-shot from this verse with something concrete, feel free to hit me with it ^^


	20. One Shot - Teasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> justirrestible said:  
> Hiii I just finished The Red and it was so amazing!! I literally read like half of it in one go:D soo for the one shot, how about newt teasing minho and tommy? Idk haha you know i live for teasing;)) <3

“I never thought I’d say it, but you _stink_ of sex.”

Thomas sputtered the water on the table, coughing to get it out of the wrong pipe, and Newt just sat there, waving his hand in front of his nose, like he just hadn’t said anything.

“E-excuse me?” the brunet hiccupped, trying to get the water off the desk with his sleeve, and Newt just let out a sigh.

“You reek of body fluids, mate,” he replied simply. “Like all you had been doing all this time is getting it on and not showering, or washing clothes or basically anything else.”

“Shut up!” Thomas banged his head over the table, mortified. It wasn’t like they kept on having sex with Minho every time he saw him. It definitely hadn’t been the case – the last time they went _all the way_ was like… a week ago, the rest was mostly cuddling, because there was just no spare time to do anything. What was Newt even playing at?

“I’m surprised you can even _walk_ ,” the blond continued, eyeing him suspiciously. “You sure you don’t have cubs yet?”

“Are you daft?!”

“Not yet,” Newt uttered and sniffled again. “Ew.”

“Stop it!” Thomas cringed, shuffling further from the alpha, but Newt didn’t really seem fazed by it. “We didn’t do anything like that for some time, so you’re probably _broken_.”

“Or maybe just in heat,” the blond commented with a sigh. “God knows it had been some time already since I got some-,”

“Too much information!”

“You reek and you’re also a prude, what’s Minho seeing in you I don’t understand,” Newt shook his head and huffed when Thomas threw the half empty bottle of water at him.

“His charming personality, of course,” the black wolf appeared as if he was called, hopping to Thomas with a smile on his face, kissing the boy on his cheek like an affectionate child. It was sweet and Thomas refused to let Newt spoil it with his disgusted faces.

“What’s up?” Minho quirked an eyebrow at them, flopping over Thomas’ back. “You look mad.”

“Newt is horny and telling me I reek of bodily fluids,” Thomas immediately informed him, earning another huff from the blond, but he didn’t try to deny it.

“He doesn’t reek,” Minho defended him with a sniff. “We hadn’t done it for a week anyway, there is nothing you can smell.”

“A week,” Newt leered, suddenly all smiley. “Having troubles?”

“No!” both of them immediately replied and Minho’s hold grew on intensity, which only made Newt grin wider.

“Maybe I can lend a hand?” the blond offered cheekily, earning a growl from the black wolf in return, and it made him laugh so hard he almost fell off the chair.

“I can’t believe I even know you,” Thomas uttered, but it made him only laugh harder.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first attempt of Thominho series. I'm terribly sorry for any stupidity that can occur, this whole thing is based on at least one werewolf (or something like that), one absolutely oblivious guy (or so) and absolutely twisted version of The Little Red Riding Hood. Also... dogs! <3


End file.
